


Elemental

by embersofamber



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ahrhi is fine with it, Because that's how I see him, But characterization of Haldir is very noble in this story, Drama, Elemental Magic, Elven Bonding, Elven Kama Sutra References, Elven Marriage, Erotica, F/M, Family, Fëa Mates, Haldir is VERY Haldir, Kinda Dom Haldir actually, Romance, because why not?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 91,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embersofamber/pseuds/embersofamber
Summary: Raised by a Ranger, she knows little of her past. Are the elves her only hope of unlocking the secrets of the magic that haunts her? Haldir/OFC; Rúmil, Orophin, Celeborn, Galadriel, OCs, and brief appearances by other canon characters.~Set in the same AU as my other stories, Lost to the Ages and A Bard's Tale~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N I began this story in 2010, as an experiment in attempting to write a female OC in Middle-earth that 1) wasn't a vile Mary Sue, and 2) would adhere to the standard I always have for all my scribbles, of being something I want to read. ;) Hopefully, I will manage to succeed on both those points. I hit a pretty major block on this story after a couple of years and ended up taking it down, but I became inspired again this past spring to give poor Ahrhî and Haldir a proper end to their tale, and so I shall. Currently, I have over 82,000 words written (164 pages in word processor), and I feel I am getting within sight of the end. I have never written anything novel length before, so it is an important goal for me to complete this in a way that makes me feel satisfied with my efforts.
> 
> This is not going to be completely canon compliant, but rather a combo of book/movie verse with just a touch of AU. If you require strict adherence to the books only, you might want to look elsewhere, as I have no desire to misrepresent this story or disappoint fellow readers. :) This has some typical fantasy magic in it, as you may guess from the title, but I tried to make it fit in with Tolkien's work as much as I could, while still keeping to my own vision for the story. For any that choose to read this tale, I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Ahrhi's name, (which means crown/wreath/laurel) is pronounced like the letters R and E, or like the name Aria without the a sound at the end. I really know very little about Sindarin or Quenya, but I love languages and have put in hundreds of hours in research for this story (I learned more about archery that I ever thought I would), and when I add any elvish language bits, I have done my best, with the help of online dictionaries, articles, and phrasebooks to have everything make sense and come out correctly. Any mistakes made are entirely mine. Also, this story begins a bit before the War of the Ring, and I have kept the timeline intentionally fuzzy, as I didn't want to get too bogged down in dates, but you will recognize events when they happen.
> 
> The first few chapters are extremely short, so I will immediately put up 3 or 4, so you have more than 5 pages to read! Be assured, chapters get longer as I progress the story.
> 
> I will update as frequently as I can, but please be aware that between real life and editing/writing I may not always be as speedy as you might prefer, so thanks for your patience. If you have questions or anything needs clarification, please drop me a review or a PM. Le hannon!

****

 

**CHAPTER ONE**

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî stepped lightly through the west gate, eager to reach the Prancing Pony and the promise of a warm bath. She was tired and hungry, but she had enjoyed success in her venture, so her mood was celebratory. She had many pelts and skins to sell on the morrow. Hathor could not tease her about her hunting ability when he saw all that her traps and bow skills had yielded.

 

The borders of the Old Forest had been particularly rich in game, although she had been careful not to venture too deep into the woods. There was a queerness there that gave her pause, so she was careful to maintain some distance.

 

She smiled to herself and hefted her pack. She was eager to see her adoptive father again. They had agreed to separate as they sometimes did briefly, while he patrolled alone or with his brother Rangers. More often than not, she accompanied him, but she sometimes stayed behind in Bree. This time she had decided to spend her time more profitably.

 

It was likely Hathor had even arrived ahead of her, although she hoped that was not the case as she had not informed him of her intention to hunt prior to his departure. She quickened her steps at the thought, her brow furrowed in worry. She was not a child that needed permission, but she had no wish to give him cause for concern.

 

She felt the bite of guilt when she admitted to herself that Hathor would not have approved of her hunting in the wilds alone. Not even in familiar territory. He was overly protective of her, even though she was a woman fully grown and well able to look out for herself. He did not feel women could be kept safe without the care of a man. She had argued ceaselessly against such ideas for more years than she could remember. It was a favored point of contention between them.

 

Ahrhî navigated the lanes and alleys with the practiced ease that came from many years of visits. She grinned at a little girl playing in the road, her hair a tangled mess and dirt splotches across her face. With a complete lack of concern, the child poked happily at a mud puddle with a long stick, flicking filth every which way.

 

A wagon laden with firewood rumbled down the road, pulled by a weary pony under the watchful eye of a young lad. Ahrhî steered clear of the animal’s path before continuing on her way. The inn was in sight now, and her steps quickened, urged on by her rumbling stomach. She had eaten nothing since dawn, and it was nearly dusk. The bath would have to wait until after she had broken her fast, she decided. Her less than pleasing smell may even serve a useful purpose by keeping any leering men at a distance. She chuckled quietly to herself at the thought.

 

She opened the door, then closed it softly behind her. The familiar smells of ale, pipe smoke, and the delicious aroma of cooking food greeted her. She scanned the room automatically, her eyes searching the dark corners often preferred by visiting Rangers. Finding no one she knew, she made her way to the red-faced proprietor, Barliman Butterbur, who was busy serving ale. She put in her request for a meal and drink, and retreated to an empty corner of the common-room, furthest from the fire. The buzz of conversation quieted slightly upon her entrance, but soon resumed.

 

Curious eyes bored into her as she walked, and she pulled the hood of her brown cloak further forward until the shadow of the cloth hid her eyes. Being a woman and attired as she often was in breeches and tunic brought her under scrutiny, but the folk of Bree generally left her in peace.

 

Placing her belongings on the floor, she took a seat with her back to the wall and a full view of the room. Within minutes, the friendly little hobbit, Nob, who worked at the inn, trotted up with a grin on his face. He placed a platter of food on the table that contained bread, cheese, and a large bowl of stew. A glass of water and a mug of ale was also set before her.

 

“How are you, Miss Flame? We’ve not seen you here in some time. Is your father not with you?” He regarded her expectantly.

 

“I’m well, Nob. No, he isn’t, we traveled separate for a time. I take it he has not yet arrived, then?”

 

Nob shook his head.

 

“Well, he will be along soon, no doubt. Perhaps even tomorrow. I’ll need a room, of course, and I’m desperately in need of a wash before I retire. Will you be a dear hobbit and see to that for me?” She gave him her brightest smile. He smiled back and blushed, shuffling his feet in embarrassment.

 

“Of course, Miss Flame,” he stammered, “I will attend to it at once. Enjoy your meal.” He left to do her bidding, and she attacked the food with gusto.

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî moved around the small room, arranging her belongings. She was greatly refreshed after the good meal and warm bath, but still much in need of sleep. She retrieved her brush and began working on the snarls and tangles in her long, red hair. She huffed in frustration. The curly mass was forever working itself into the most spectacular knots that took an inordinate amount of patience and effort to rid herself of.

 

At times, she considered taking her dagger and hacking off the whole lot, but ultimately shied away from taking such an extreme step. Hathor would be disappointed, for he greatly favored her long hair and she tried to please him, at least in that small way. He found the idea of short hair on a woman unnatural. Since she dressed as a man, and engaged in the traditionally male activities of tracking, bow hunting, and swordplay, she wished to keep at least one obvious link to her femininity besides her breasts.

 

Hair tamed at last, she quickly twisted it into a long braid, then slipped under the cool sheets of her bed. She sighed in pleasure, then turned to her side, seeking a comfortable position. The soft tunic she had donned for sleep twisted and bunched around her, and she growled in frustration. She sat up quickly and pulled the thing off, tossing it to one side.

 

Naked and drowsy, she smiled. Sleeping bare was a guilty pleasure she was seldom able to indulge in for obvious reasons, but she enjoyed the unobstructed glide of fabric across her skin when she had the chance. The only time she had complete privacy was when Hathor left her on her own in Bree and she had discovered the surprising pleasure of sleeping in the nude.

 

The comforts of a wanderer with no fixed home were few, but she didn’t much mind. It made her thankful for the brief bit of luxury that village life offered. She felt for the medallion and ring that hung from a silver chain around her neck. Running her hand across them gently, she finally drifted off.

* * *

 

~o~

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 

* * *

 

 

The soft leather of Ahrhî’s boots made very little sound as she paced before the window of her bedchamber that overlooked a quiet side lane, currently occupied by wandering chickens. A finger of worry snaked through her as she stared sightlessly ahead, and she gnawed on one of her fingernails in agitation. A childhood habit that she had never been able to break and only emerged when she became distressed.

 

A full week had passed since she arrived at the inn, and still no sign of her father. She had completed all her buying and selling by the second day, and now struggled to find things to occupy her time with and ease her mind. Hathor had never been late before, and the fear she had been trying to suppress grew, day by day.

 

She snatched her cloak from the foot of the bed, and fastened it around her, but left the hood down. Most of the people around the inn had become accustomed to her bright hair, and since there weren’t any orc nearby, she had little need to hide.

 

She walked purposefully to the large common room, thinking to pester Nob for want of anything better to do. He really was a sweet fellow, and she was fond of her little friend. He went out of his way to see that she was comfortable and had all she needed. In turn, she teased him to the point of blushing, and told him wild tales of her childhood for his amusement, frequently embellished. He would listen in fascination, and beg for more until Butterbur bellowed for him to get back to work.

 

Ahrhî was halfway across the room before she noticed the still figure sitting in the corner, smoking a pipe. It was the feeling of being watched intently that finally broke through her distraction. Forcing herself not to look, she took a seat in a shadowy alcove opposite the stranger. Nob approached her, and she leaned toward him and whispered.

 

“Nob, do not turn around, but do you know who that man is? The tall one in the corner.” She shifted her gaze to the hobbit. His eyes darted slightly to the side, but he didn’t turn.

 

“Folks call him Strider, Miss Flame. I thought you might know him since he’s another one of them Rangers,” he whispered back.

 

“Strider.” She sat back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “I do not know the name, but it’s hardly surprising.” She smiled at Nob. “My father didn’t exactly raise me around people.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Would you bring two ales? I’m going to go make his acquaintance, I think.” Nob smiled and nodded before padding away.

 

She rose from her seat and walked across the room, aware of the stranger’s gaze on her the entire time. If he wasn’t so like Hathor it would have been disturbing, but the Rangers she had met over the years seemed to share similar qualities of observation and awareness.

 

She felt a little nervous approaching an unknown man, but he was one of Hathor’s people, so perhaps he might have news explaining his delay. He might even have been sent with a message for her. Finally, standing before him, she met his eyes and spoke.

 

“Suilad,” she began quietly, speaking to him in their native Sindarin, instead of the Westron that was spoken in Bree, knowing that no one would understand them if they were overheard. His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, but he returned the greeting courteously, inviting her to be seated. She settled herself just as Nob set two mugs of ale on the small table, smiled and nodded at her before departing.

 

“You are a Ranger?” she asked, twisting the edges of her cloak between her fingers.

 

He looked slightly puzzled by her question, but nodded his head. “I am. Is there something you need, Miss…?”

 

All at once, a weeks worth of worry and frustration broke through, and she leaned toward him, eager for any answers he might have.

 

“I am Ahrhî Elnaur, daughter of Hathor. You must surely know him. Has he been delayed? Will he be here soon? Or must I go to meet him some other place?” Her words tumbled over each other in a babbling rush, and Strider held up a hand, chuckling at her verbal onslaught.

 

“Calmly,” he urged. “Ahrhî, was it? I am known as Strider. What’s this about Hathor?”

 

She took a deep breath, then began again, her voice small and worried. “Hathor is my father. He went off on patrol many weeks ago, and he was to have met me here again after completing his duties, but he is now more than a week late. He has never been late before. It is very unlike him, so I am concerned.”

 

Strider rubbed a hand across his bearded chin in thought. “I know Hathor well, he is a good man, but I have not seen him in some time. I was not even aware he had a daughter.” He examined her curiously, finding no resemblance between the tall, dark-haired man he knew, and the petite, green-eyed redhead before him.

 

She leaned back in her seat, her expression glum. “He is my adopted father,” she explained. “He found me all alone when I was a small child and raised me himself. We spend very little time apart.” She pulled her medallion out and rubbed it absently.

 

Strider’s gaze focused on the pendant, and he leaned forward slightly, intrigued. “What are those markings? I have never seen anything like it. May I look at it?”

 

Ahrhî extended it to him, and he lifted it slightly toward the light, examining it closely. He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Where did you get this?”

 

She tilted her head. “This medallion and ring belonged to my mother. It’s all I have left of her.” Her expression turned slightly bitter. “She died by the hands of foul orcs.” She stuffed the ring and pendant back beneath her tunic, her movements jerky. The soft touch on her shoulder made her look up to see the Ranger regarding her with understanding and compassion.

 

“The loss of a loved one is painful, but do not lose hope. The darkness will not prevail while there are those willing to stand against it.” His hand gave a gentle squeeze before he released her. Something in his touch and manner brought her comfort, and she smiled at him in gratitude. He drank from his mug, and she did the same before speaking again. Her mind kept returning to Hathor’s absence, screaming something was amiss.

 

“What should I do if he does not soon come?” She spoke aloud, hardly aware of the fact, as she mulled it over. “Shall I go and look for him? Perhaps I should have started trying to track him last week. At least I know the direction he took, if I can still find a trail…”

 

The feel of his eyes on her again caused her to look up at him, and the force of the disapproval she saw there made her recoil from him.

 

“You will do no such thing,” he said firmly. “The wilderness is dangerous, and certainly no place for a woman alone. Evil things roam in the dark, Ahrhî. Heed me.”

 

She swallowed and nodded, cowed by the unwavering sternness of the man. She would certainly take care never to get on his bad side, as he seemed more than willing to force her to his will if he deemed it necessary. She had never been in the care of any man but Hathor, but knew disobedience in women was not something looked on favorably. She had no wish to be caged by this Ranger, who might now feel she was his responsibility in the absence of her father. Ahrhî clutched her cloak in nervous fingers and looked across the room, trying to avoid Strider’s intense gaze.

 

“Be at ease. You have nothing to fear from me, young one.”

 

She looked at him in shock, wondering if he could read her thoughts when she saw his dancing grey eyes and upturned mouth. He was teasing her! Perhaps he was really more like Hathor than she had originally thought. Smiling, she leaned forward again, at ease once more, and suddenly curious.

 

“What is your age?” She asked frankly.

 

He chuckled slightly, and drank again from his mug. “Much older than you, child.”

 

She studied his face, looking for anything that might reveal how old he was, but she found nothing to indicate excessive age. He looked to still be in the prime of his life, for a man.

 

“Hathor is close to ninety now. I am near fifty myself, although I do not know my exact age.”

 

Strider showed surprise as his eyes examined her face intently. “I would have guessed you to be a great deal younger, perhaps less than twenty. Are you also of Dúnedain blood, then?”

 

Her brows furrowed in thought. “In truth, I could not say. I know very little of my mother, and nothing at all of my natural father. I suppose it is possible, although…it would seem strange that I am not much taller,” she said, indicating her size. She sighed deeply. “I suppose I will never know.”

 

Strider took up his pipe and re-lit it. He inhaled the smoke contentedly, before releasing the gray cloud. His eyes shone, reflecting the light from the burning pipeweed.

 

“Tell me, Ahrhî, what of these tracking skills you mentioned. Just what exactly did your father teach you?”

 

She curled her legs underneath her, getting comfortable, her expression excited. She spent the next hour enthusiastically discussing her favorite pastimes, while the stern Ranger listened in amusement, enjoying himself more than he had in some time.

* * *

 

 

Suilad - Greetings

Elnaur - star fire

* * *

 

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî left enough coins to cover her stay at the inn on the small table by her bed, then ducked through the window, dropping quietly to the ground. She retrieved her pack and weapons, and moved through the shadowed streets until she came to the small gap in the hedge she had discovered two days before. She squeezed through with difficulty, then headed to the southeast, determination infusing her quiet steps.

 

The past several days she had divided her time between Bob, the hobbit that tended Barliman Butterbur’s stables, Nob, who she was now fast friends with, and Strider when he was about.

 

He had finally revealed his true name to her on his last day in Bree. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and she now understood why he seemed so grim. The chieftain of the Dúnedain must carry a great weight and responsibility. She knew the name from hearing her father mention it, but knew little else of him.

 

Before he took his leave, he instructed her not to speak his name to anyone. He had to depart for a time, but he would return ‘ere long to discover if Hathor had arrived. If not, he informed her he would travel with her to Rivendell, and there they would make further inquiries. He firmly instructed her to stay put in Bree until either he or her father came for her.

 

Going to Rivendell sounded interesting, if circumstances had been different. She had been there only once when she was four or five years of age. She remembered the ethereal beauty of the elves she saw, but little else. There was only one elf who’s face she could still see clearly in her mind, his hair dark and his eyes a vivid blue. He had looked at her in a way that seemed to reach deep inside her, and it frightened her. She had run and hidden herself away behind a horse. Shortly after, they had departed, and her father had never taken her there again. She shook herself from these recollections, focusing her thoughts once more.

 

Aragorn was somewhat gruff and stern, but also exceedingly kind, and it grieved her to defy his wishes, but she could delay no longer. Indeed, she had felt a growing urgency building within her, day by day. What if her father needed her? She could not be still merely to ensure her own safety. Besides, she reasoned, she could just as easily come to harm in Bree. That Bill Ferny had been staring at her overlong in a calculating manner, and he had the very look of evil about him.

 

Her only fear was that she would not be able to find any sign of a trail to follow, but she at least knew which direction he had taken, as well as his habits and ways. She also had the advantage of having wandered a greater part of Eriador throughout her life. If the Valar willed it, she would find the only man she had ever loved. She fervently prayed the greater powers would favor her.

 

* * *

 

 

The sounds of nature filled the air. Twittering birds, the soft buzzing of insects, the sighing of the wind through the trees. She was glad to be away from the noise of people once more. Ahrhî cut the stem of the small plant, and stowed it in her bag with the others. She had been running low on the medicinal plant, and was very glad to find a renewed source.

 

The leaves were very beneficial to the frequent cuts and bruises which had long been a part of her life. When crushed and applied to a wound, the small, green leaves sped healing, and kept away any tendency to fester. Over time, she had also discovered that even the deepest cut would not scar after the medicine was applied. This was a benefit only to vanity perhaps, but a benefit nonetheless.

 

She sat back on her heels, looking carefully in every direction. All of her senses were alert to any sign of danger. Even more than usual since she was traveling alone. Had there ever been a time when it had been any different? Her brow furrowed at the thought. No, this was her way of life, it was what she knew.

 

Standing to her feet, she re-positioned her bow more comfortably, then took the time to pull her hood further forward. She did not have her face covered at present, but there was seldom a time she did not cover her hair. Red was hardly a color that blended in to the background, and she had no wish to become a beacon to the enemy. The greens, browns and black she wore were far more suited to the task of hiding her from unfriendly eyes.

 

Glancing skyward at the sinking sun, she drew in a breath, a resolved glimmer in her green eyes. Hathor was out there somewhere, and she _would_ find him, no matter how far she had to wander nor how long it might take.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ahrhî examined the remains of the small fire and frowned. It was not like Hathor to be so careless. The signs clearly pointed to his having camped here, but he had taken none of his usual care to lessen those signs as he always did.

 

She expected to have to search carefully for subtle clues, not find a blatant declaration of his presence. Not only could she see where he had sat next to the fire, but also the print of his boots in the dirt. Almost as though he had merely stepped away for a moment…

 

She caught sight of something brown behind a tree and gasped. Running over, she pulled a very familiar pack out of the shrubbery. Looking around her carefully, she stood still for a long moment, listening.

 

She opened the pack, and quickly took stock of the contents. All Hathor’s belongings appeared intact. She squatted down with a frown, shoving the bundle back down until it was better hidden than before.

 

Returning to the fire, she examined his prints until she found a set that took off further into the trees. She followed these for some distance until she came to a sight that caused her stomach to lurch painfully.

 

Battle. The signs of it were everywhere, including the carcasses of more than a dozen orcs. She covered her nose and mouth against the smell, as she ventured further towards the bodies. Flies swarmed around her as she walked and she gagged painfully, before pressing her cloak across the lower half of her face.

 

Hathor’s dagger protruded from the body of one orc, but it was twenty steps further when she felt as though she experienced the sudden pain of a blade to her chest. The dried remains of human blood stained the ground; far too much for anyone to have walked away from. And he hadn’t, that much she knew, for that was where his tracks ended. There were no more.

 

She pressed both hands to her mouth in horror. How long she stood like this, she could not say. Her eyes stayed riveted to the sight of the blood on the grass. They would blur, then come back into focus. The fact that the sun still shone and the birds were singing merrily in the trees seemed offensive. How did middle-earth not weep around her, when her own heart shed tears of blood?

 

Her mind and emotions whirled in a haze of grief and pain, unable to form a single coherent thought. Nothing felt real, not even the passage of time. Until at last, her eyes latched onto one thing. The only thing that could partially rouse her from the overwhelming agony. There were tracks that lead away. Many of them, in fact. Orcs. His murderers.

 

She scrubbed the wetness from her eyes with her cloak, and an iron hatred entered her soul. She walked over and snatched her father’s dagger from the rotting creature it protruded from. She crouched down and wiped the filth from the short blade on the thick leaves of a nearby bush, then clutched it to her reverently.

 

If she closed her eyes, she could see the dagger in Hathor’s hands. His large, capable hands, both strong and gentle, the third finger on his right hand marked by a pale scar from a battle fought long before she knew him. How was it possible that those hands were gone forever? How many times had those hands pulled her close in comfort, or stroked across her hair fondly? She could not even begin to count the number of times those very dear hands had protected her and kept her safe from all harm.

 

She opened her eyes and looked at the dagger, the fine oak handle like a warm and familiar friend. An ally. It would be her talisman of vengeance.

 

Standing to her feet, she released her sorrow and rage and struck out, extending her arms in front of her. The strange power she had always struggled to keep hidden swept through her, extending from her hands in the form of fire. She blasted the foul bodies, setting them alight.

 

Her mouth set in an implacable line, she set off to follow what tracks remained.

* * *

 

 ~o~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to mention quickly, that Rangers of the North spoke Sindarin as their native tongue, not Westron. Ahrhî also speaks Common, but Sindarin is her first language. :)

**Chapter Four**

 

* * *

 

 

Kneeling in the dirt, Ahrhî examined the signs carefully. It seemed there were sets of orc tracks that turned north, while the others continued to the east. After a long moment of indecision, she turned to continue tracking to the east. When she found many more signs over the next several hours, she felt she had chosen correctly.

 

As another day drew to a close, she ate some of the dried fruit and nut mix that she and Hathor had always purchased in Bree. There was no time to spare to hunt, clean and cook game, as she was accustomed to. She could not risk a fire in the dark that would alert others to her presence, and would not even rest until she was safely up a tree where she would be beyond the reach of any roaming orcs and potentially unfriendly animals. At best, she lightly dozed, unable to truly relax enough for proper sleep, but it was sufficient for her needs. Basic survival. It was enough. It had to be.

 

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî glanced back at the hideous thing with contempt. She ran swiftly, her breath coming in quick puffs, and it pursued her just as she knew it would. Stupid and predictable, but also deadly and sometimes crafty, as well. She must never forget. Even now, she could hear Hathor’s words in her mind.

 

_Never allow arrogance or complacency to creep in, Ahrhî. Even the mightiest warrior can be cut down if he lacks vigilance._

 

Haunting words. Yet the truth of it was not lost on her.

 

Having reached a sufficient distance, she stopped. Turning quickly, she aimed for the neck of the orc and let her arrow fly. It landed true, but she was already running again. Her ears told her all she needed to know; it had not felled him. After another dozen steps, she again turned, this time sighting on its left eye. When the arrow struck, the creature crumpled.

 

A cold smile touched her lips. Her feet carried her swiftly onwards. The night air stung her eyes, causing them to water. She swiped her eyes impatiently, refusing to acknowledge any other possibility. The time for grief was not now. She must focus on tracking and hunting, just as she had been taught. This death, this _vengeance_ \- it was all she had left to cling to.

 

She slowed her pace enough to let the next closest orc catch up to her. She dodged around trees, but never lost sight of her enemy for long. Her strategy was as simple as it was effective: lure, then kill. She had far more skill with a bow than a sword, and she relied heavily on that fact. How many days had she been doing this now? Ever since Hathor… She could not recall the exact number. There was no reason to mark time anymore. The next orc fell, then the next.

 

Ahrhî ran.

 

* * *

 

 

Haldir watched intently as the band of orcs ran in the distance. The man that appeared to be a ranger, had led them on a merry chase. Steadily chipping away at their numbers, but always managing to stay just beyond their reach. A necessary measure, considering the man fought alone.

 

Haldir’s eyes narrowed as he saw a small group of orcs break off from the main. They crashed through the brush at a quicker pace, clearly intending to outflank the man.

 

He signaled the other wardens to move into position. The ranger had acquitted himself ably, they would not abandon him to a grim fate when they might easily lend him their aid.

 

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî gasped for air, her breath wheezing, and a stitch of pain in her side. Her muscles quivered in weariness. She knew she should have broken off long ago, melting into the shadows to seek rest and recovery, yet she did not. She pushed herself on, goaded after each kill to seek just one more. Promising herself each time that it would be the last until after she rested. Not even one of these blood-thirsty orcs must be allowed to live.

 

The tingle in her fingers was increasing in response to the drawn-out battle, yet she continued to ignore it. She could not understand it. The power was unpredictable and often contrary, so she could never trust it fully, and truthfully, a part of her feared it. It haunted her life. The bow was reliable, and worthy of trust.

 

Movement in the underbrush caught her attention, and caused her heart to stutter in shock. They were in front of her! Indeed, looking grimly around her, she now realized they surrounded her. All became clear in an instant; she had made a fatal error. It seemed she was watching events unfold from a distance, as though she were observing the actions of another. How could she have been so foolish? Her lust for kill after kill had brought her to this folly, and she now had to face the consequences of that choice.

 

Squaring her shoulders, she threw aside her bow and quiver, freeing herself of the unnecessary weight now that they were of no more use. Her fingers positively burned with the suppressed power struggling to break free, but she ignored the pain for the moment. Turning in a wary circle, she unsheathed her sword with a hiss of steel, although she knew her pitiful skills would not save her, the bow having always been her favored weapon. She would certainly die, but she would not die as a coward, nor would she permit them to capture her alive; never that. She hoped to take at least a few more with her before she fell.

 

Knowing death was so near did not bring the terror and panic she expected, but rather a calm peacefulness. Her end must count for something, just as Hathor’s surely had, even if it was only to strike one final blow against evil.

 

These thoughts brought a swift change of emotion. Subterfuge was no longer necessary, nor indeed, desired. Without further thought, she removed both the ranger cloak and the mask that covered her face, throwing them to the ground to join her discarded weapon. She would no longer hide from who she truly was in her final moments.

 

The narrowed eyes and growling taunts of the orcs showed their surprise, quickly followed by cackling leers of anticipation; for a woman was a rare prize to be enjoyed.

 

Ahrhî sneered openly at them, her hatred for their kind pulsing through her in time to the staccato beat of her heart. The cool night air kissed her face in a gentle caress. Gripping her sword in one hand, she extended the other toward the orcs, with her palm facing up, eager to see fear in their beady eyes. She now released that place inside her that she attempted to keep locked so tight. She beckoned it sweetly, and it rushed out her fingers, hovering as a living flame above her hand.

 

The terrified cries and shouts of the orcs echoed around her at the unexpected magical display. The red of the fire reflected in her eyes and over her hair, lending a frightening element to her visage while she laughed in delight, her taunt ringing through the trees.

 

* * *

 

 

Arrows whistled through the air in a great barrage. With a startled cry, Ahrhî instinctively ducked, and the fire above her hand guttered out, her concentration broken. Golden-haired warriors jumped down from the trees, drawing beautifully curved swords and attacking the orcs with ferocity. She jumped to the side and rolled as she sensed a sweeping Mordor blade aimed for her head.

 

An arrow bloomed in the orc’s chest, and he died with a look of horrified shock in his eyes. She quickly threw a grateful look at the tall, powerful elf who saved her, but he either didn’t see it or didn’t acknowledge it. She jumped to her feet and turned away from him. With an angry yell, she rushed an orc and slashed her blade across his throat. The vile black blood splashed across her face, and she wiped at it and spat in disgust.

 

Another orc came at her from the side, but she dodged and parried the strike, gritting her teeth at the heavy impact. Her booted feet slid back several inches in the dirt, unable to hold steady against the superior power of her foe. There were times when she really longed to possess the greater strength of a man -- this was one of those times. She circled the orc warily, jumping aside quickly from a strike that would have cleaved her in two.

 

She sized up her opponent while she adjusted the grip on her sword to two hands. He was strong, but his extra bulk caused him to be slow.

 

 _Exploit every weakness_.

 

And she would try to, just as Hathor had taught her. Spinning to the side, she slashed at the back of the creature, but his thick armor rendered the blow ineffective. He rounded on her again with another hard blow against her sword and a shrill laugh, taunting her.

 

“Why can you not be a good orc and just die!” she shouted in exasperated Westron. “I _will_ prevail!”

 

She struggled to push aside her rage as the fight lengthened and strove for calm. She really was getting dangerously tired, and mistakes multiplied in such a condition. She knew she needed some new device if she expected to achieve victory.

 

_Employ every strength._

 

She dodged another blow before she shot a ball of flame right into the face of the orc. His scream of pain was cut off as she stabbed her sword deep into his throat. She kicked him backwards to the ground, pulling her sword free at the same time. Looking around her, she caught sight of something that rekindled the full force of her anger.

 

A larger, more powerful orc was wielding Hathor’s blade! How dare he put his foul hands on a weapon of honor? She shouted in rage, running toward him. Before she was close enough to engage him in combat, two arrows struck his chest, one after the other, and he fell to the ground, dead.

 

Feeling strangely robbed of her full vengeance, she turned in a fury, but could not determine which of the elves had fired the arrows. Grunting, she walked quickly to the fallen orc and kicked him in the ribs. Although he was already dead, she could not stop the petty need for further aggression.

 

She sheathed her own sword before she picked up her father’s blade and wiped the hilt reverently. Ahrhî clutched it against her chest in a desperate grip. With the strengthening rush of adrenaline and the terror of battle fading, sorrow threatened to overwhelm her, but she twisted it into the now familiar anger that gave her strength.

 

Moving back, she extended her hand until the orc leader was engulfed in flames, determined to erase any sign of his evil existence. The blaze roared over the body, throwing black smoke against the night sky. The stench fouled the sweetness of the forest air.

 

It was over now.

 

The fact that she was still alive brought a numbness to her mind. She slumped in exhaustion as the very last of her strength was spent. Her father’s sword slipped from her grasp to land soundlessly on the ground. Everything seemed strangely silent to her ears before a distant roar grew until that was all she heard. Her knees hit the earth a heartbeat later.

 

Ahrhî stared around her in a daze, the cuts and bruises she had sustained finally beginning to register. Feeling an intense pain in her side, she touched it carefully, wincing when her hand came away coated in her blood.

 

 _How fortunate to have_ _picked those_ _medicinal leaves…_

 

The thought flitted through her mind, before her body crumpled completely and she was taken by the waiting dark.

* * *

 

 ~o~


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 

 

* * *

 

Haldir strode purposefully to the woman, stepping over corpses and enemy weapons. He was not surprised when she fainted after discovering she was wounded. Considering the odds she originally faced, it could have been so much worse. He had stayed near her throughout the battle to ensure her safety, but had only directly intervened twice. She possessed no great skill with a sword, that was readily apparent, although he grudgingly admitted her bow skills had at least been adequate.

 

He felt a flicker of anger towards this unknown woman, which began from when she revealed herself. What did she think she was playing at by luring orcs in such a way? She was either unhinged or had a death wish, but he knew not which; perhaps both.

 

His lips twisted in fleeting amusement at the memory of her frustrated shouts while she fought. She did not lack boldness, that was certain. He scowled in renewed irritation. Foolish girl. What she needed was a healthy dose of caution and respect for the strength of her enemies. Whoever her people were, they clearly needed to exercise greater control and discipline with their females.

 

He knelt down and rolled her to her back. He unbuckled her sword belt and removed it, before tugging her tunic high enough to examine her wound. A fairly clean cut, and not too deep. It would need to be properly cleaned, but the first thing was to stop the bleeding. He checked her over thoroughly, but found no other injuries beyond minor cuts and bruising.

 

He sighed, and reached into a pouch at his waist, withdrawing fresh, green medicinal leaves. He crushed them vigorously in his hands to release their healing properties, then pressed them firmly into the wound, stopping the flow of blood.

 

His brother, Orophin, knelt down next to him.

 

“How does she fare, brother?”

 

Haldir took a length of cloth and wrapped it around her waist, securing it over her wound before answering.

 

“She is in no danger at present. It would be best if the injury were healed, but I will wait until she is awake to attempt it.” Her unusual abilities made him wary. He did not trust her not to strike out despite being unconscious.

 

Orophin reached out in apparent fascination and lifted a lock of fiery red hair to examine.

 

“I have never seen hair of this color,” he murmured.

 

Finished for the moment, Haldir sat back and allowed himself to really examine her for the first time. She looked very young, younger even than he had originally thought. He did not think she had even two decades to her credit. A mere child, although he supposed she wouldn’t be considered very young in the lands of men. Their lives were so brief.

 

Her skin was fair, but with a light smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. She had high cheekbones and a full mouth. Her hair was a very striking shade of red, impossible to miss. The shape of her eyes reminded him of a cat he had once seen while traveling abroad.

 

He supposed she might be considered attractive for her kind, although he would not claim to be an expert on her race. It would perhaps be easier to tell, if she were not covered in dirt and orc blood. Otherwise, her appearance seemed nothing remarkable, if a little unusual.

 

“Maybe the color of her hair is a warning,” quipped Rúmil, walking up to join them.

 

Orophin grinned up at his younger brother. “You may be right. Considering she can throw fire, it seems only right to give sufficient warning. Mayhap other parts of her are just as fiery?” His grin faded as he examined her again. “Is it not odd that a daughter of men has such magics? And why would a woman be wandering the wilderness alone, with no protectors?”

 

“Nothing can be discovered at present. She must have time to recover.” Haldir scooped up the girl, being careful of her wound. He knew his brothers, and he was sure their speculations on fire would soon turn in other directions, and he had no desire to listen. She _had_ fought bravely, despite her ill-advised actions, and he felt that deserving of some little respect.

 

Instructing Orophin to retrieve her belongings, he walked off further into the forest and away from the burning smell of death.

 

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî’s first hint of awareness was the bright sunlight shining on her face. It felt warm and good and comforting. She smiled and opened her eyes, only to look into a very stern but handsome face. Why were all the men she ever met stern? It would be nice if just once she could meet one that looked at her with tenderness and gentle kindness.

 

Not a man, her mind corrected, an elf. He was gazing at her warily, so she asked the first thing that popped into her fuzzy mind.

 

“Am I not dead,” she asked, speaking in Sindarin to be sure he would understand her, as she wasn’t certain elves spoke Westron. It came out as a statement.

 

There was a flicker of surprise on his face at her words spoken in his own language, but the slightly mocking upturn of the corner of his mouth was apparently the only answer he was prepared to give. She sat up suddenly, the pain in her side flaring to life. She gasped and reached for the wound, all her memories returning in a rush.

 

“No,” she continued, sarcasm heavy in her voice, “most assuredly not dead. Death probably feels much more agreeable than this.”

 

“You _would_ have died had my wardens and I not come to your aid,” he said severely.

 

She pressed her lips together, somewhat taken aback by the hostility he was radiating. Perhaps elves didn’t like humans? It wouldn’t surprise her. Most people were mistrustful of those different from themselves, regardless of their race. Then again, it was quite possible that he just disliked her personally. But if that were so, why would he bother to aid her? Perhaps nobility of action did not require politeness or kindness.

 

The elf crossed the wooden platform, and knelt to retrieve something. She heard the sound of pouring liquid. He returned to her side and crouched next to her.

 

“The wound you received was not deep, nor did it hit anything vital. I would say you are quite fortunate, considering the circumstances. I can heal it for you, but I did not wish to proceed without your consent or awareness.”

 

He extended a cup to her, which she accepted with a murmur of thanks before drinking deep. The water was sweet and good; the best she had ever tasted. She drained the last of it, then set the cup down next to her.

 

She looked at the beautiful golden-leaved tree she was suspended in. They were on some type of platform. Glancing over the edge, she saw they were high above the forest floor. She had no memory of climbing anything.

 

“How did I come to be up here?” she asked curiously.

 

He sat back on his heels. “I carried you, of course.”

 

She was surprised. It was quite a long way up. He smiled faintly at her shocked expression.

 

“There is very little to you, so it was no effort at all,” he continued.

 

Her mouth twisted ruefully. Knowing you were short and scrawny was one thing, but being informed by a person of great physical beauty seemed to lend credibility to the insult. Or, that was how Ahrhî interpreted his statement. She certainly didn’t feel complimented.

 

“I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lórien. You are in the realm of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.”

 

She looked at him sharply, shock evident on her face. “Lórien? I...suppose I did run quite far, after all. I did not realize.”

 

She stared at him frankly, taking in his silvery blonde hair, pointed ears, and imposing form. She had the irrational urge to touch his hair or his ear and see what it felt like, just as she had with her little hobbit friend. Although, Nob had not minded indulging her curiosity. She did not think this severe elf would take kindly to such an action on her part. The very idea had her repressing a grin.

 

The gray of his cloak was spattered with orc blood, but it did little to detract from his overall appeal. With sudden chagrin, she realized her own appearance must be quite shocking. But then, why should she attempt to impress elves? She might just as well seek to dazzle the stars, or something equally impossible.

 

He stood to his full height and crossed his arms, waiting for her to finish her perusal. When she finally met his eyes he raised an eyebrow, his expression amused, and kinder than it had been. When she blushed and looked down, a slight smile touched his lips.

 

“Have you a name?”

 

“Ahrhî” she said, and pushed to her feet. She swayed slightly when dizziness struck, but Haldir gripped her arms while her vision cleared. She smiled apologetically, and stepped away from him. Something about him made her very self-conscious, and gave her a fidgety case of nerves.

 

She looked at him questioningly, her hand clutched against the site of her injury. “You say you can heal? How exactly do you accomplish it?”

 

“I must lay my hands on you,” he said.

 

“You have your own magic, then?” She had heard such things about elves, but she had never met one she could ask for particulars. Perhaps they would not find her own abilities at all unusual, if they possessed similar traits.

 

Haldir frowned slightly at her obvious ignorance. “All elves have gifts which you would likely call magic, to some degree. We are individuals, so it varies, but I have some ability to heal. Would you wish me to attend to your wound?”

 

She shifted her weight slightly, and grimaced at the sharp stab of pain.

 

“Yes, please, if it would not trouble you overmuch.”

 

In truth, she was more interested in observing his abilities than alleviating her pain, although that would certainly be a welcome benefit. She had never met another person with magic.

 

She looked at him questioningly, wondering what was required.

 

He motioned to the soft bedding where she had been resting previously. “I think it would be best if you lie down again, on your side.”

 

She moved to comply, then turned to watch him as he moved closer. He glanced at her briefly, before lifting her tunic, and unwrapping the dressing. He placed his hands just above her waist, not touching her skin, when a pale glow began to emanate from his hands. The feeling of rushing, liquid warmth flowed into her body. It was pleasing and disconcerting to her, all at once.

 

Oddly, she felt the familiar burn in her fingertips, and against her will, the wind began to blow through the trees. Softly at first, then with more force as his hands settled fully against her now healed flesh. The light glow faded, and he withdrew his warm touch.

 

The violent wind died instantly, and Ahrhî shuddered as the sensations receded. She rolled to her back, and watched as the swaying leaves stilled. She tentatively touched her side and felt only smooth skin. She looked at Haldir, who was regarding her with narrowed eyes.

 

“Thank you for your kindness. I am very sorry about…that.” She gestured helplessly at the trees. “I cannot always control it.” She flushed again with embarrassment.

 

He extended a hand and pulled her to her feet. She stepped away from him quickly, adjusting her tunic. Spying her belongings, she retrieved her sword and buckled it around her waist. She carried Hathor’s sword, unwilling to leave it behind. She felt Haldir’s gaze boring into her, but she ignored him, unsure of what more she should say.

 

She fastened her cloak and pulled the hood forward to hide her hair again. She grabbed her bow and pack, now eager to be away. She was never able to remain around others for long. It always ended poorly. She needed to get away from these foreign lands. In truth, she was likely trespassing, but she had not done so intentionally.

 

A sharp stab of loneliness pricked her, and she wished for the thousandth time that she had only been with Hathor. Would it have changed things? Would he still be alive? Unanswerable questions, yet the guilt still burned in her gut, causing her insides to churn.

 

She turned to face Haldir, unaware of the bleak, grief-stricken expression in her eyes. She bowed her head to him in respectful gratitude.

 

“I thank you for your help, and that of your company. I will impose no further upon you, Marchwarden. I did not intend to lead the orcs to your borders, and for that, I apologize.”

 

She moved to exit the platform, but he blocked her escape, a frown marring his face.

 

“To whom do you belong? You are alone and very young, clearly separated from your people. I will petition the Lord and Lady for an escort for you. We don’t often leave our lands, but we will see you safely returned to your folk.”

 

The corner of her mouth lifted in an amused half-smile. “Very young, you say? I am near fifty years of age, which is not at all young for a woman, although I suppose it would seem so to you. I am not nearly as youthful as I appear.” She glanced down to the forest floor.

 

“As to danger…I have come from Bree entirely on my own. It will pose no great difficulty to travel alone once again.” She shrugged before her lips twisted bitterly. “And I belong to no one, not anymore.”

 

Haldir raised his eyebrows at her enigmatic statement, but merely stared at her, awaiting her explanation. She sighed, before she spoke again, in a much quieter voice.

 

“The man who raised me was a Dúnedain Ranger named Hathor. He was slain by a party of orcs when we were separated for a time, and when I discovered what befell him I tracked them for weeks to avenge his death.” Her hand twisted restlessly on the hilt of her sword. “The creatures last night were the last of them. It was all the tribute I could offer to the only father I have ever known.”

 

She turned away from him to hide the tears of sorrow and the lingering anger at Hathor’s unjust death that filled her eyes. Ahrhî refused to give in to the grief. Not here, not yet, but soon she would have to. Her sorrow at the loss of the man who had been a father to her was private, just as their lives together had been. She started in surprise at the firm grip on her arm, the warmth from his hand seeping into her. She turned her head to glance at him.

 

“He would not have wished you to endanger yourself, no matter how noble your intent,” Haldir said, both sincerity and chastisement burning in his blue eyes.

 

Ahrhî smiled grimly. “He would have turned me over his knee for my reckless behavior, no doubt. You are correct in your assumption.” She was silent for a moment before she continued.

 

“Yet, if our places had been reversed,” she said fiercely, “I know he would have acted no differently. So, perhaps he would forgive me my stubbornness. And lest you think me a complete fool, I will tell you, I have never before lured orcs in such a way. Nor do I have any intention of repeating the experience. I do know better after a lifetime of killing the things.”

 

She gazed at Haldir with imploring eyes, then made to leave once more. “I must go while the light yet remains.”

 

Decision already made, Haldir crossed his arms again, his expression implacable.

 

“I cannot allow you to leave,” he said firmly. “I have the right to detain you, and I deem it best to do so, for your own protection. A woman should never travel the countryside alone, despite the apparently faulty level of indulgence you have been shown in this regard.”

 

Her mouth fell open in shock. She had thought these elves would be glad to be rid of her, wild, dirty little mortal that she was. It took but a moment for the rebellious part of her to rear its head, causing her to speak in anger.

 

“How _dare_ you? You cannot keep me against my will,” she hissed, stalking closer until she stood nearly toe to toe with him, glaring up into blue eyes which regarded her coolly. “I have broken no laws, and I am not even of this realm. Surely I am no concern of yours.”

 

Haldir clenched his jaw in anger, unused to having someone flout his authority or speak to him with so little respect. “You misunderstand,” he said, his voice deceptively soft as he leaned closer to her, towering over her with his greater height. “This matter is not up for discussion. You _will_ go before the Lord and Lady. They will decide what is to be done with you, as is their right.”

 

She made a sound of rage and stared impotently. For a fleeting, irrational second she considered trying to grapple with him, but dismissed such a mad idea instantly. It would only succeed in vexing him further and wounding her own pride.

 

When it became apparent that she would not even win against him in a contest of wills, as he continued to meet her angry gaze with his maddeningly cool one, Ahrhî wheeled away from him. Dumping her belongings in a pile in the middle of the talan, she sat down, crossed her arms and glared at nothing, the very picture of brooding discontent.

 

* * *

 

 ~o~

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Ahrhî stood looking out into the forest, watching the last of the daylight fade, rubbing her medallion with her thumb. Haldir, the overbearing Marchwarden, had left her alone after ordering her to stay put. Since then, she had spent her time fretting over their interaction.

She had never been spoken to so severely before. Nor had she ever before felt so judged and disliked by another, and she admitted that she hated the feeling. Sighing, she rubbed a hand across her forehead. They were not to leave for the elven city of Caras Galadhon until first light, and her thoughts needed diverting lest the emotional morass she was swimming in swallow her whole.

She had managed to take some of the water left for her, along with soap and a cloth from her pack, to scrub the filth from her face. A full bath would be required for any true measure of cleanliness, but something was better than nothing. At least her face was no longer painted with black blood.

Awareness of a new presence caused her to turn, and she beheld one of the elves she had seen previously. He smiled at her and beckoned her to come sit beside him, where he was busy dividing food. Relieved at the prospect of a meal, she approached him eagerly, returning his smile tentatively.

"You must be very hungry, you have had nothing to eat this day. I am Orophin, brother to Haldir, and this is our youngest brother, Rúmil" he said, gesturing to the elf who was just stepping onto the platform.

"Thank you, Orophin, you are very kind. My name is Ahrhî. I was uncertain if my status as prisoner precluded the possibility of food," she said ruefully. Orophin exchanged a disturbed look with Rúmil.

"You are not a prisoner, Ahrhî, but a guest. If there is anything you require, you have but to ask Haldir, or one of us." She looked away and did not voice the unkind thought of what she would dearly like to ask Haldir to do.

Orophin handed her a platter of edibles, and she accepted it gratefully. He also extended a cup to her, filled from a jug at his side. She sipped it cautiously and was delighted by the delicious, fruity flavor.

"What is this?" she questioned. "I have never tasted such as this." She took another mouthful of the delightful drink.

Rúmil took the cup from her hand and swallowed deeply before he returned it to her with a bright smile. "It is a berry wine we make from a fruit that only grows in the Golden Wood. We often use it to drive away the chill of the night."

She looked at Rúmil for a long moment. His open and friendly personality was much to her liking. He seemed to have none of the coldness or severity of his older brother. Orophin also, was gracious and kind, and seemed concerned for her well-being. Perhaps she had been too hasty to judge all elves based on her brief acquaintance with the more severe Haldir.

The three of them ate companionably. Both brothers peppering her with questions about where she had come from, and what news she had from the lands of men. When their inquiries turned to why she had been fighting orcs on her own, her uncomfortable silence caused Orophin to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Do you have songs or tales you would share with us?" he asked, with a twinkle in his blue eyes. She thought for a moment. The warmth of the wine brought a flush to her cheeks and she recalled a silly little song.

She and Bob and Nob had lain in the hay in the stable late one night, thinking up verses while they drank. The strength of the intoxicating beverage she had consumed completely did away with any inhibitions, and she began to sing from memory.

There once was a hobbit with the eyes of a fox,

He jealously guarded the food in his box.

With pipe-weed aplenty, he feasted and smoked,

Drank ale by the vat 'til he was quite broke.

 

 

There once was a dwarf in a mountain of stone,

With riches and jewels he lived all alone.

An axe he created, with craft and cunning,

Certain to send every enemy running.

 

 

There once was a man who wandered the wild,

His heart was tender, his spirit mild.

With bravery and daring, he defended the weak,

Spreading hope and joy, whenever he'd speak.

 

 

She paused and looked at Orophin and Rúmil who were smiling in amusement. She grinned and improvised a new verse.

 

 

There once was an elf who lived in the wood

With sword and bow he did what he could

By defending maidens, he gained great renown

Known to all, far and wide, by his golden crown

 

 

At this, Rúmil continued the song, the rich beauty of his voice filling the night.

 

 

There once was a maiden with hair like fire,

Her spirit in battle was sure to inspire.

Evil was vanquished by the lift of her hand,

Rallying all to her cry, across the land.

 

 

He lifted Ahrhî's hand and kissed it, his eyes dancing with mischief. A giggle spilled from her lips and she clapped a hand over her mouth, mortified by the girlish sound. Both brothers laughed, and after only a brief hesitation she joined them.

"I am sorry for subjecting you to my fell voice, but I fear this wine is much stronger than I am used to, and has overcome my usual good sense," she said apologetically.

A chuff of laughter startled her, and she met the mocking gaze of Haldir. He was seated several feet beyond Orophin, where she had not even noticed him. How long had he been there? How much had he heard? Her cheeks, already ablaze from the wine, got even hotter with her embarrassment. She had the urge to flee, and seized on the first device she could think of. She looked at Orophin.

"Could you help me down? I need to relieve myself, and I fear I will fall if I attempt to descend without help." She smiled as she rose. Haldir also stood and waved his brother away.

"I will take her," he said.

Ahrhî sighed. What did he possibly think she would do in her semi-inebriated state, or did he just want to torment her? She walked on unsteady feet to where the ladder hung.

Haldir looked at her swaying form critically, before he bent and pulled her across his shoulder. She sputtered indignantly until he began to rapidly descend the swaying rope ladder, then she squeaked in fear and clutched his gray cloak.

The sound of Orophin and Rúmil's laughter floated down from above. The swaying movement of Haldir moving steadily down the ladder, combined with the spinning in her head was beginning to make her feel quite ghastly. She hoped they reached solid ground quickly, or she might empty the contents of her stomach on the elf's backside.

Imagining the annoyed look he would give her if such a thing occurred brought on a desperate desire to giggle, and she pressed his cloak against her mouth and nose to prevent it. She inhaled appreciatively. His attire smelled of him, woodsy, spicy and something very...male.

Being pressed against him made her uncomfortably aware of the feel of his hand on her thigh. She moved restlessly on his shoulder, then gasped when his hand shifted higher against her leg to steady his hold. She clenched her eyes shut, attempting to block out both thought and sensation.

At last, they reached the ground and he set her on her feet, but her balance was not equal to the task and she fell, landing gracelessly on her bottom. With a look of surprise, she stared up at him. He sighed and extended a hand, pulling her to her feet. She snatched her hand back, glaring at him.

"Why did you do that? I was quite capable of getting down under my own power without your high-handed interference!" Her voice rose in her anger.

A mask of irritation settled over Haldir's face, and the blue of his eyes again took on the coldness of ice. When he spoke, his voice was sharp.

"Your judgment is impaired, if indeed, you possess any. In your current state, you would likely have fallen and broken your leg. We have a long walk on the morrow, and I have no intention of carrying you. If you are incapable of making intelligent decisions, then I will make them for you, and for as long as you remain under my care."

He took her by the arm and guided her into a thicker part of the forest, and Ahrhî flinched at the strength of his grip. Turning, he strode back the way they had come.

"Call to me when you are ready to return," he threw over his shoulder.

She saw to her needs quickly, before wandering off in a different direction even deeper into the woods. She wasn't quite ready to face Haldir, and she seethed inwardly at his scathing words. Why was he so harsh and cruel to her?

The night sky was brilliant with a myriad of stars, and only a pale sliver of moon shone between the trees. She heard the distant sound of trickling water, and followed it until she came to a small stream.

She knelt down and trailed her fingers in the icy liquid. Lifting handfuls of water, she splashed her face, shivering at the bracing cold that went a long way towards clearing her mind of its wine-induced fog.

Ahrhî wondered how long it would be before her tenacious guardian returned to drag her back. As much as she hated to admit it, his criticism bothered her. Was she really as reckless and foolish as he appeared to think, or was he simply prejudiced against her and his perception skewed because of it?

It was possible he had never even met a woman before, for he had mentioned his people seldom left their lands. Perhaps he was judging her by what he expected from an elf female, and clearly she was an entirely different kind of creature, and would no more behave like an elf than a horse would behave like a frog. She snickered, realizing she was painting herself as a frog in that particular analogy, which was far from flattering.

She scooted backwards until she was resting against the solid base of an obliging tree. With her eyes closed, she concentrated on the beautiful, peaceful music created by the flowing stream. She always found tranquility and solace at the sound.

Opening her eyes once more, she was unsurprised to see Haldir standing not two feet in front of her, watching her intently. He seemed to glow under the light of the stars, and she studied him in fascination.

"Were my instructions too complex for you to understand?"

She smiled tightly, biting down on the sharp retort that rose to her lips "Certainly not. I was merely curious to see how long it would take you to track me down. You are tardier than I thought you would be," she said flippantly, dusting off her breeches as she stood.

He raised a supercilious brow. "I was well aware of your location. Your movement is far from silent."

She sighed, impatient with his implied insults and disapproval, and decided to try a different tactic.

"My apologies. I was not trying to defy you. I merely heard the running water and I was drawn to it. Were it not so very cold, I would dearly love to bathe." She ran her hand across the rough bark of the tree, tilting her head back to see how far the leafy arms stretched toward the sky.

Laying her cheek against the trunk, she closed her eyes, reaching out with all her inner senses and felt a stirring of a presence deep within, entranced that the large tree was greeting and welcoming her. With a murmur of delight, she drew back and found Haldir regarding her piercingly. Turning back to the tree, she patted it and stepped away.

"This is a place of true beauty, Marchwarden, and these trees are most delightful." She glanced at him again to find him still watching her, so she continued. "You love these woods, do you not?"

He hesitated briefly before answering. "I do." He stepped closer to her, resting a palm against the same tree. "In these times of growing darkness, greater vigilance is required to preserve such beauty."

"And greater sacrifice," she whispered, casting her eyes to the ground and thinking of the Rangers that guarded the borders of Eriador, unbeknownst to the people they protected. Her eyes stung suddenly, and she blinked rapidly to prevent tears from forming.

"Such sacrifice is honorable, and worthy of remembrance," he said, his deep voice quiet.

She nodded, looking into his inscrutable eyes. He extended a hand to her. "Come, let us return to the talan. You need rest this night 'ere we journey to Caras Galadhon."

Ahrhî smiled slightly, for once more amused than irritated by his commanding tone. Perhaps she was becoming accustomed to the severe elf's ways. She placed her hand in his, and he urged her forward, each of them lost in their separate thoughts.

* * *

Haldir watched Ahrhî walk away from him, an unaccustomed pang of guilt plaguing him. He followed her silently, wondering why she seemed to so easily evoke his more scathing responses. He was exacting and abrupt at times, but never intentionally rude. She had an uncanny knack of irritating him into unguarded reaction.

She was a curious mixture of melancholy and exuberant vivacity, and when in a rage she fair glowed from it. He was as tempted to offer her comfort when she looked at him with eyes so full of loss, as he was to shake her in exasperation for her persistent foolishness and poor judgement. He had unexpectedly enjoyed seeing her interaction with his brothers. Even her ridiculous song amused him, if for no other reason than her tipsy rendering of it.

Perhaps he had been too hard on her. She had just lost her father as well, and was undoubtedly coming to terms with the fact. He would attempt to extend more patience and understanding to her while they traveled to Caras Galadhon on the morrow, he decided.

He continued his silent musings while he followed her up the hithlain ladder.

* * *

Orophin and Rúmil greeted Ahrhî and Haldir upon their return. Rúmil offered her more wine, which she declined, her spirits no longer as high as they had been. She retrieved her bedding from her pack and wrapped her blanket around herself. The night air had a bite to it, and combined with the chill from the stream it caused her to feel quite cool.

She wanted the escape that sleep would grant her, but she was gripped by a restlessness that would not permit slumber. Avoiding Haldir's eyes, she went and sat next to Rúmil. He laughed at something Orophin said, and she smiled at the infectious sound. Rúmil turned to her and grinned.

"Will you sing something else for us now?" he asked. She laughed nervously, embarrassed at the reminder of her earlier unguarded behavior.

"No, I do not think that would be a very good idea. I've been told my singing closely resembles the mating call of wargs."

Rúmil laughed in surprise, and Haldir chuckled faintly. "Who would say such a thing?" Orophin asked.

"My father" Ahrhî replied, with a slight smile on her lips. "Would _you_ sing something instead?" She asked Rúmil. She greatly admired his singing ability.

"Certainly," he replied. "Do you have a preference?"

"Something about your people, perhaps? Or your Lord and Lady?" She spread her hands and shrugged. "Anything you like."

Rúmil nodded, considering. After a moment, he began a stirring ballad about the wisdom and power of the Lady of Light, and the glory of Caras Galadhon.

Ahrhî listened, enraptured. The sound of Rúmil's voice wrapped around her, and she was amazed when Orophin and Haldir joined in, the harmony of their voices blending together into an otherworldly sound. It was both stimulating and deeply soothing, and her agitation was eased by the time their voices died away.

She looked at them with admiring eyes, shining with gratitude. "Thank you," she said simply, "that was very beautiful."

Moving away from them, she arranged her bedding and lay down, gazing into the dark of the night. The earlier effects of the wine persisted, causing her head to feel heavy and strange. When sleep finally claimed her, it brought with it dreams of the past.

* * *

_Ahrhî stared at the medallion she clutched in her hand, tracing the symbols with her eyes in the flickering light of the fire, before glancing at the man next to her._

" _Hathor?" she asked softly._

" _Hmm?" He responded absently._

_He breathed out, releasing pipe smoke into the air. The dark brown fabric of his thick cloak was wrapped around him against the chill of the night. His long legs stretched out in front of him, and he leaned back against his pack, his manner relaxed._

_She had always thought her adopted father was an imposing and attractive man. Over six feet tall, and broadly built, his shaggy brown hair and twinkling blue eyes softened his sometimes gruff and harsh demeanor. If he had a weakness at all, it was his tender heart towards her._

_He could have left her in a village somewhere, or given her over to one of the Dúnedain women to raise, but he had not. He had stubbornly raised her himself, never giving in to the not so gentle hints that a girl child had no business in the wilderness, learning the tracking, hunting, and swordplay skills of a ranger, instead of homemaking, child-rearing and other gentle pursuits._

_She sighed and tucked the necklace back under her clothes. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knee. At sixteen, she was still getting used to her longer limbs and more womanly curves. The changes in her body had awakened a new curiosity about where she had come from._

_She glanced back at Hathor to see him regarding her with the patient stare that seemed to take in everything. He studied her pensive expression and posture as though he were reading signs on a trail. After another thoughtful draw on his pipe, he tilted his head up and released the smoke._

" _Spit it out, girl, before you choke." He softened the words with a small smile, gripping the pipe stem between his teeth._

_She took a breath and smiled back. "I was just wondering…if you could tell me what my mother looked like?" She looked at him hopefully, but with uncertainty._

_He grunted and continued to smoke silently, a faraway look in his eyes. Finally, he turned a keen gaze to her, as though he were seeing her for the first time, his lips pursed in thought._

" _You look much like her." He said, in the usual respectful tone he used when he spoke of the dead._

" _The same hair color, similar features, although she had blue eyes, as I recall." His brow furrowed. "I have told you of your mother before, have I not?"_

" _No, never."_

_He reached out to place his hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze._

" _Would it not grieve you to hear? Perhaps when you are older…?"_

_She tsked in exasperation, grasping his large hand between both of hers and squeezing._

" _I AM older. Would you have me wait until my hair turns gray before you tell me anything of significance? What of the orc I slew? I think a child could not do that." She sat a little straighter, trying to look mature and more imposing._

_He threw his head back and laughed. "Ahrhî, that orc already had my arrow in his back! He was dead, he just had yet to admit it."_

_She released his hand with a huff and glared. "It was still my blade that finished him," she muttered rebelliously._

_He raised his brows and smiled indulgently. "As to gray hair, I believe you have a few years yet before that becomes a concern." He ruffled her messy red curls, and she crossed her arms in irritation._

" _Calm yourself, Firebrand," he soothed. "Did you not wish to hear of when I found you?"_

_Hathor watched the tic in her jaw. He found that there were times when navigating her personality required as much focus as handling a hot iron. Especially of late when she seemed more like a skittish colt than a young girl._

_She gave a single curt nod, but refused to look at him. This amused him, but he refrained from further teasing, and focused his thoughts._

" _This was more than 13 years ago" he began. "I was on the Great East Road journeying between Bree and Rivendell. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was traveling with a small company of Rangers, myself and three others."_

_He paused briefly while he leaned forward to tap the pipe debris into the fire, then set it aside._

" _We stopped to camp for the night. I had first watch, then quickly fell asleep. I remember I had a restless night full of troubled dreams. Several hours before dawn, I woke with a terrible feeling of dread. I can't really explain it."_

_Ahrhî leaned forward, eyes wide while she watched Hathor intently._

" _There was a bright glow in the sky to the east of our camp, and flashes of lightning, though the night was cloudless. It was decided that I would scout ahead to try to discover the cause. We had mounts then, so I rode until I came close to the site. The smell of burned earth was in the air." He looked at her quickly "And other things. The horse became frightened the closer we ventured, and I could not calm him, so I tied him to a tree and continued on foot."_

" _The base of Amon Sûl was where the fire originated. It was like nothing I had ever seen," he murmured, amazement in his voice._

" _A great battle had taken place, and dead orc lay burning everywhere. But there were no warriors, in fact, no men at all. There was a great ring of scorched earth surrounding two women, and places where the ground had buckled with gaping chasms."_

_Hathor ran his hand through his hair, pulling lightly on the ends._

" _I went to them, but one of them, a dark-haired elf, had already died of her injuries. The red-haired woman was still alive, but mortally wounded. She watched me approach with a look of relief, as though I were expected, although the life was nearly gone from her."_

_He shook his head at this, then continued._

" _In a hoarse whisper, she asked me to remove the medallion from her neck, then she removed her ring and put that into my hands also. She begged me to go to the top of Amon Sûl and retrieve her young daughter, Ahrhî Elnaur, who she had hidden away there."_

_Hathor reached over to take Ahrhî's hand in his own._

" _With her last breath, she asked me to swear to protect you, and I gave her my oath. I think it brought her comfort. That is my hope. She never gave me her name, so I can not even tell you that."_

" _When I went up to find you, I discovered you sitting quietly, hidden in a corner behind broken stone. You were playing in the dirt," he said with a teasing smile._

_Ahrhî smiled slightly, but didn't shift her gaze from the fire._

" _I spoke your name softly. I thought you would cry or fear me, but you didn't. I knelt in front of you, and you examined my face. Very thoroughly, I might add. Then you touched my beard and finally smiled at me, calling me Ada." He stroked her cheek, wiping away a lone tear. "You have been my girl ever since that day."_

_She turned and buried her face in his chest, crying silent tears of sorrow and gratitude. For the courageous mother she had never known, and the brave warrior who protected her. Hathor wrapped his arms around her and held her close while she rode the storm of emotion his tale evoked._

_With a sniff, she lifted her head and looked at him, her brow furrowed in thought. "If I called you Ada, why did that change? I never remember calling you anything but Hathor."_

_He chuckled and tapped her on the nose. "When you were about four years old, I made you wear a dress while we stayed in Bree. You were very angry and demanded your trousers so you could climb trees, and race the village boys. I refused, and you started calling me Hathor in anger. Ever after, you addressed me by my name."_

" _What if I call you Ada when I'm very happy, would that be acceptable?" She asked with a small smile._

" _I will answer to either name, Ahrhî, regardless of your mood," he teased._

_She lay her head on his chest again, wrapping her arms as far around his middle as she could reach._

" _I love you, Ada." She sighed, closing her eyes._

" _And I you, iell." He kissed the top of her head._

" _I hope we will always be together," she whispered. She drifted to sleep, lulled by the comforting beat of his heart._

* * *

Haldir walked silently across the talan, stopping a moment to look at the sleeping woman before seating himself a short distance away. His brothers were off patrolling, but would return ere long. Dawn was only a few hours away, and he would soon depart to guide his charge to the Lord and Lady.

Elves required much less time to rest than other races. The few hours of reverie he had taken earlier in the night were more than sufficient for his needs.

He leaned forward slightly when Ahrhî moaned in her sleep. It was interesting to observe her, as she would speak an odd word here and there, but seemed otherwise lost in sleep. The first choking sound startled him, swiftly changing into a wailing cry.

Haldir approached her quickly, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she continued to sob, her body wracked with her shuddering wails.

"Ada! Ada," she cried brokenly, incoherent in her grief and obviously still unaware. The wind began to blow suddenly, rocking branches and scattering leaves with great force. Haldir's hair whipped around his face, his cloak flapping about him.

Understanding the source of her distress, but unable to rouse her, he lifted her, bedding and all, and seated her across his lap, holding her securely in his arms. Ahrhî clutched at him desperately, burying her face against his chest as she wept, dampening his tunic with her tears.

Grim-faced, Haldir gently stroked her hair, rocking her and murmuring soothing nonsense as he would to a youngling while she cried out her grief. The wind calmed to a gentle breeze before dying completely, as her sobs gradually gave way to sniffles, and finally to silence.

Climbing onto the talan, Orophin gave his brother a questioning look, but Haldir shook his head to forestall any spoken inquiries and attempted to extricate himself. He shifted her weight slightly, and her hands released his tunic only to reach up and twine her fingers tightly through his hair, pushing her lips against his neck with a contented sigh.

Orophin grinned at his brothers predicament, and Haldir shot him a quelling glare, trying once more to free his hair from her tenacious fingers. She moaned a soft protest and moved her nose up to his ear, exhaling warm breath there, and causing him to have a rather surprising reaction.

He froze, unwilling to worsen his dilemma by provoking her to further movement while pressed against him so intimately. Orophin's soft laughter and perceptive gaze left no doubt of his awareness of Haldir's situation.

Rúmil's silent arrival couldn't have been more ill-timed, as the two younger brothers joined together in amusement at the eldest brother's expense. Haldir blew out a frustrated breath, glad that dawn would soon come.

* * *

Ada- Father

Iell- Daughter

* * *

 

~o~


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Ahrhî inhaled deeply, pressing her face further into the comforting warmth that surrounded her. A light pounding in her head as she drifted closer to consciousness caused her to groan in complaint. Seldom did she sleep so deeply, and apart from the shadowy remnants of a distant nightmare, she felt she had slept well.

As the pain in her head became insistent, she squeezed her eyes more tightly closed, but sought to rub at the ache. The blanket she clutched had a curious silkiness to it, and she rubbed it between her fingers appreciatively before releasing it. When her bed shifted beneath her, she lifted her head in alarm, gasping in shock as she realized she was reclining on Haldir.

"What..!" she squeaked, attempting to crawl backwards, and landing in an inglorious heap of tumbled blankets.

Haldir quickly stood to his feet, relieved to be released without further injury to his hair, or his pride. Ahrhî peeked at him from under her blankets, but winced and covered her face again.

"You must rise now, it is near time to depart." He adjusted his gray cloak, which had become quite twisted in the night by his restless burden.

"I cannot," came the soft, muffled whisper, "a troll pounds my head relentlessly."

Haldir frowned and knelt down, pulling her covers aside so he could look at her. Strands of her hair had escaped the long braid she kept it in, and curled around her face in wild disarray. Her eyes were red with irritation as she squinted at the light.

Suppressing his amusement at her bedraggled appearance, he gave in to the urge to smooth down the most rebellious of her red locks, and found the texture of her curls to be surprisingly soft.

She looked at him with unfocused eyes, blinking rapidly. When her vision cleared, she pushed up to lean on her elbow, glancing around the deserted talan.

"Please," she implored him, "never let me drink that wine again. The aftereffects are insupportable!"

"Better that you should learn from your mistakes and be your own keeper in such matters," he said, laughter in his voice.

Screwing up her courage, she began to voice the question she most wanted an answer to. "During the night, how did I come to…" But she was interrupted by the arrival of Rúmil and his cheerful morning greeting, which to her ears seemed over-loud.

Haldir pulled her to her feet, and there she stood, clutching her head and glaring at Rúmil while he chuckled at her unhappy state.

"This is all your fault," she grumbled, falling into a worse humor as her ill stomach made its presence known.

At Haldir's insistence, she made herself ready as quickly as she could, despite her misery. Rúmil followed them down to the forest floor, where Orophin joined them as they made their goodbyes.

Orophin clasped her on the shoulder, but Rúmil pulled her aside for a brief, whispered conversation. When she returned, her cheeks were flaming, and she would not meet the eyes of any of them.

Haldir looked at his younger brother questioningly, but he merely smirked, so Haldir chose to ignore Rúmil's intrigues. They set off for Caras Galadhon before the sun was fully risen.

* * *

 

Ahrhî thought muzzily back to the mystery of the night. Waking in his embrace had been bad enough, but to find herself plastered against him, her fingers entwined in his hair with the intimacy of a lover… She had never known such mortification. Her clumsy attempt to unseat herself from his lap had ended with her sprawled across the talan, her legs hopelessly tangled in her blanket.

These embarrassments alone she could have borne, as she had some faint memory of her grieved weeping, and his comforting kindness. What she did not understand was why he had continued to hold her throughout the night; but his severe, indecipherable expression caused the question to die on her lips.

His low order to ready herself for travel, followed by his immediate departure, left her stewing in her puzzlement. At last, she worked up the courage to ask Rúmil why Haldir held her while she slept. His laughing reply that _she_ was the one that would not release Haldir, made her jaw drop in horror. When he further commented with a wink, that Haldir had not really been unhappy with his position, Ahrhî gave up on trying to understand.

She trudged silently behind Haldir, stumbling yet again on the path that was so smooth, she should be experiencing no trouble. Frustrated by her pain, which was the source of her unusual clumsiness, she swore in Westron.

When Haldir stopped to look at her disapprovingly, she colored in embarrassment. Had she realized he understood the profanity she used, she would have refrained. She rubbed her temples, starting in surprise when Haldir replaced her hands with his own.

"Why did you not ask for my aid? You know I am able to ease you," he murmured chidingly. His fingers moved expertly across her forehead and closed eyes, and she gradually relaxed into his touch.

"I did not wish to vex or importune you with my troubles." The familiar liquid heat of his healing gift flowed through her, and she grasped his forearms to keep from swaying at the titillating onslaught.

"Your stubbornness does you no credit. It would seem unwise to suffer, when assistance is readily available to you."

Feeling much recovered as the ache faded, her teasing nature reasserted itself. "I thought it was desirable for a female to suffer in silence," she quipped.

"I do not know who gave you such ludicrous ideas, but I would not exactly count stumbling around and swearing as silent."

She opened her eyes to glare at him, but his gaze was mild, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You prefer that I be bold, and command you to do my bidding?" she asked sarcastically, dropping her hands to her side.

"I think it is in your nature to be bold, and as to the rest, well,…it might be amusing to see you try." He ceased the soothing massage and gave her a questioning look. "Better?"

Her mind was reeling at the strangeness of the conversation, and she looked at him blankly. "Pardon? Oh! Yes, much improved, my thanks."

He nodded and turned, and she followed behind him. Before another quarter hour had passed, they came to the bank of a rushing stream. Haldir whistled low, then glanced at her.

"We cross here. This is the Celebrant." He uncoiled a rope he withdrew from his belt and tossed it to an elf waiting on the other side, who seemed to suddenly materialize from the foliage. Her brow furrowed in confusion until Haldir ran lightly across the rope which had been secured around the trunks of trees on either side of the Celebrant.

He stood perfectly balanced on the narrow strand and looked at her expectantly, beckoning her to follow. She laughed incredulously and pointed to the rope.

"I cannot cross in such a way, or I should end floundering in the water. Should I not just swim across in the first place? I can swim well enough."

Haldir pursed his lips and came to stand in front of her.

"No, the current is too swift and deep, and the water is very cold. I shall carry you across then."

Ahrhî backed away from him a step, and shot a glance at the golden-haired elf across the stream who was regarding her curiously.

"I would prefer not to be tossed over your shoulder again, if it is all the same to you."

She spoke quietly, in hopes that the elf across the way could not hear their discussion. Her memories of the number of times she had been carried by Haldir in their brief acquaintance, still fresh in her mind. It felt like a commentary on her helplessness and inferiority, and she resented any such implication.

"If you cannot manage the rope, then I must carry you, for there is no other way to cross. We keep no bridges in these watchful days. I will bear you in my arms this time, if it is more to your liking." he said, his voice growing stern. She looked to the sky in frustration, trying desperately to think of another way, when the thought came to her.

She looked at the rushing river with her eyes narrowed. She had managed something smaller on a whim once before, but could she do it again on command? There was but one way to know. She walked to the edge of the water and closed her eyes to focus.

Imagining the small bridge she wished to form, she stretched her hands toward the water, but the power refused to gather, remaining elusive as wisps in the wind. The harder she tried to command it, the faster it slipped away. Fire was far quicker to come to her and easier to call than ice. Discouraged, she began to lower her hands in defeat, when she felt a presence in her mind of a greater power than she had ever known.

 _Welcome Ahrhî Elnaur, it has been long years since I last felt the touch of one of your line. You will require my aid if you wish to accomplish your thought,_ a feminine voice spoke inside of her.

Ahrhî looked around in shock, when she heard a soft laugh from the same, beautiful voice. _Unless you wish to let Haldir carry you across the water. He has no objection to the task._

She knew it must be the famed Lady of the Wood. For who else could have such power to speak in a person's mind? She looked back at the impatient elf who was staring at her, before answering.

"What must I do?" she asked in a whisper, not really sure how to have a conversation without speaking aloud.

_Try once more, and I will assist your focus._

Ahrhî nodded and closed her eyes, extending her hands again. Instantly, she felt the power rush through her and out her fingertips. When she opened her eyes, a small bridge of ice arced just above the stream. She clapped her hands in delight.

"Oh, thank you, my Lady!" she gushed in gratitude.

 _You are most welcome, child. I will see you soon_ , Lady Galadriel said, amusement strong in her tone.

She couldn't resist turning to Haldir with a triumphant grin on her face, but he was walking to the rope bridge, his back to her. Shrugging, she stepped gingerly onto the ice, being careful not to slip. If she fell in the water after all her effort, she would deserve to be washed away.

Reaching the other side quickly, she rejoined Haldir, who had just accepted a small parcel from the other elf. Their quiet conversation was obviously not intended for her ears, and the intense scrutiny by the unknown elf made her uncomfortable.

Haldir inclined his head towards the path they were to take, so she walked ahead of him for a time, losing herself in the glory of the day.

After traveling for a distance, he drew her aside into a quiet glade, and gave her food from the parcel he had received. They drank fresh water from a container he carried, then after a brief rest they continued on.

When the daystar had nearly completed the trek across the sky, they stopped for the night. Haldir pointed out the talan they would take their rest in, mostly hidden in the canopy. Ahrhî trudged to the tree, intending to climb up and rest when he stopped her.

"There is a warm spring that feeds into a small pool nearby, if you wish to bathe."

She looked at him with a raised brow.

" _If_? Does a dwarf wish for an ale? Of course I wish to bathe!"

He led her in the direction of the spring, and she followed eagerly.

"I rather hoped you would. It would undoubtedly embarrass you to enter Caras Galadhon in your present state." Haldir waited for her offended response, but when none came, he glanced at her only to find her grinning.

"Never let it be said that I do things by half-measures. It takes dedication and perseverance to become this thoroughly soiled." She held up a particularly filthy corner of her tunic as proof.

"This is a pursuit you have devoted effort to? As what, a ploy to cause orcs to believe you are one of them?"

When she laughed so hard that she actually leaned over and clutched her middle, he looked at her dubiously, as though she had sprouted a second head. When she caught sight of his face, any attempt to compose herself was lost.

She finally regained control, gasping for air. His crossed arms and bland expression made her feel compelled to explain.

"I was just attempting to imagine a red-haired orc…" She trailed off when he continued to regard her with no trace of humor. She tilted her head in a way that made Haldir think of a curious bird, before throwing her hands up and sighing.

"Never mind," she muttered. Ahrhî strode past him, missing the tell-tale twitch of his lips.

When they reached the spring, she exclaimed in delight, stooping to test the temperature with her fingers. She smiled at Haldir in excitement, then pushed to her feet and glared at him in warning. "I certainly hope you have no misguided ideas about lingering here. I require no protector in these circumstances."

He clasped his hands behind his back, unable to resist goading her. "I have a duty as Marchwarden to watch over my charge, and for that, I must be present."

She stood perfectly still, measuring his resolve with her eyes before giving a resigned shrug and favoring him with a mischievous smile. She removed her cloak, then sat to remove her boots. "Very well. Perhaps you can at least make yourself useful by scrubbing my back?"

She withdrew a small cake of soap from her pack and approached him, holding it out. He accepted it automatically. Haldir knew she was jesting, but was reluctant to be the one to give in first in the little game they seemed to be playing.

Ahrhî smirked and turned away, having noted the slight uncertainty in his eyes. What he did not realize was how desperate she was to be clean. If it meant disrobing before one overbearing elf, then so be it. Maidenly reserve meant much less than being free of filth. She was nothing if not practical, and if she kept her back to him, she thought it likely she could ignore his presence. She freed her hair from its long braid and shook it out, then removed her sword belt.

Haldir watched her remove articles of clothing with a complete lack of concern, becoming angered by her behavior. When she stood in nothing but a pair of breeches, which barely hung there by the curve of her hips, he found his feet moving of their own accord.

Snaking his arm around her middle, he jerked her back against him. She gasped and clutched the tunic she held before her tight against her breasts. He grazed his lips and nose against her neck, his voice pitched low and dangerous.

"Be careful what temptation you offer, minx, lest you raise appetites you know nothing of."

His hand splayed possessively across the smooth skin of her belly in a light caress, causing her to shudder. He dropped the soap at her feet, then released her and strode off, soon lost to sight among the trees.

 

* * *

 

~o~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested in what Ahrhî's ring and medallion look like, you can go to deviantart and search for the same username as I have here. I have a rough idea of her medallion there, and a picture of a star sapphire ring, which is what I describe her having.

__

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Haldir stopped some distance from the spring, his breath uncharacteristically ragged. He was astonished by his own behavior. What had possessed him to take such extreme action, he did not know, but he felt compelled. The sight of her bare back was burned into his mind, her right shoulder sporting the line of a silvery scar but otherwise unmarred. He found himself wondering if others areas of her body were similarly marked or unblemished.

Was she really so naïve not to understand what effect the sight of a nude female had on a male, whether man or elf? If so, she was a tease, but if not, that made him an unforgivable cad. He should have left, or at the least, turned his back, but he had not. He had stood as one transfixed by his own arrogance, confident her boldness would not extend as far as it had.

But no, his anger reasserted itself. She had taunted him, and it was wise he had taught her a lesson, mild though it had been. A person less honorable than himself might have ravished her, and it was well she should learn the truth of it while under his protection, where she may remain unscathed.

The world held much darkness, and those that were informed and aware stood a much greater chance of avoiding it. Even a reluctant student could profit from such a lesson. Caution, for a young and attractive female, was essential.

* * *

Shaking like a leaf in the wind, Ahrhî stood paralyzed, clutching her tunic before her as though it were some sort of talisman against overbearing elves. Never had she anticipated such a reaction from Haldir, who seemed so aloof and always in control. Even now, her mind struggled to wrap itself around the event.

She glanced behind her in the direction he had taken, but saw nothing but vacant forest. Shedding the last of her clothing, she slipped hurriedly beneath the water until she was immersed to her neck. What did his words mean?

If he spoke of men's carnal lust towards women, that was not something she was ignorant of. More than once, she had felt disgusted to be the object of such base and unwelcome attention. In truth, it was actually the reason she did not mind appearing dirty and unkempt, as she discovered it to be an effective means of avoiding such things.

But what did the low nature of some men have to do with elves? Granted, she knew very little of their culture and practices, but she did not think them given to similar passions of the flesh…especially Haldir, who appeared always so severe. Was she mistaken in her assumption? Did long years merely grant them greater adeptness at hiding what they truly felt?

Grasping the soap, she lathered her hands carefully before running them across her skin. She shuddered as her own touch recalled the warm caress of Haldir's hand against her. Never had she felt such a feeling, this achy tingling in her body, this languid heat. She glanced around again, suddenly uneasy, his words returning to her mind-

_lest you raise appetites you know nothing of_

But with this odd awareness and longing coursing through her, exactly who was raising an appetite in whom? Her hand smacked the water in irritation, sending a spray into the air, and piercing the early evening quiet of the woods with the sound.

* * *

Clean and freshly clothed, Ahrhî sat alone on the talan brushing the tangles from her hair. When Haldir had not returned for her by the time she finished bathing and dressing, she made her way back to where they were to sleep.

The moon had not yet risen, and with the dense canopy of the forest, the darkness was nearly too thick for her eyes to penetrate. The night sounds she knew from a life spent in the wild were strangely absent, and the quiet made her uneasy.

She wished Haldir would return, despite the awkwardness that now stood between them. Anything would be preferable to the silence that pressed in on her.

As though her thoughts had power, Haldir's head suddenly appeared as he climbed onto the talan, and she could not stop the small, startled cry that broke from her lips.

"It is only I," he reassured her. "You have nothing to fear in this wood."

"I was only surprised," she claimed, her heart beating a quick tattoo in her chest.

He lifted a dubious brow, and she turned from him to hide her face from his scrutiny. She continued with her hair until it fell in smooth waves, then wove it into her habitual braid. He extended a small wafer to her, and she accepted it, looking at the unknown food in curiosity.

"What is this, some manner of bread?" She sniffed, but found little scent.

"It is an elvish way-bread, called lembas. Eat; you will find it pleasant and filling."

She nibbled and was delighted by the light, sweet flavor, but found she could only eat half of what she was given.

"Save the rest for morning. This is all we will eat until we reach the city," he instructed her.

She nodded, and carefully placed the remainder in her pack. The silence between them stretched, and grew so thick, Ahrhî imagined she could cut it with a sword. Her mind insisted on recalling the feel of his hand on her bare skin, and she fidgeted, her face flushing uncomfortably. When he finally spoke, she expelled a relieved breath.

"Tell me of the Dúnedain Rangers you were raised with."

She smiled in memory, proud of the people that she counted as her family "They are a fine and noble people," she began softly. "Unswerving in their duty to protect the weak and helpless, and in their defiance of evil." She drew her legs up and rested her cheek on her knees.

"They patrol the borders of Eriador ceaselessly, and those that dwell there regard them with mistrust and suspicion. But they do not know to whom they owe their comfort and safety." She lifted her head suddenly, her brow furrowed in thought.

"I was to have stayed in Bree until Ara.. uh, Strider, one of the Rangers, returned for me. He was to take me to Rivendell if he had not found Hathor." She looked up uncertainly. "He will doubtless be angry with me for my disobedience, but I hope he does not worry overmuch. I should have left a message, but I departed in haste and my mind was greatly distracted."

Haldir stretched his long legs in front of him, well aware that with the approval of the Lord and Lady, a message could be sent to Imladris informing her people as to her whereabouts. He would mention nothing of the sort to her now, not even if he wished to ease her mind, as it was not his place to do so.

"You should sleep," he said, finally.

"I'm not yet tired," she said absently, laying on her back to gaze at the stars peeking through the branches. She loved the evening sky. At times, she felt she could reach out and touch the glittering points of light. Eärendil was her favorite star of the night. There was something about it that healed her spirit. Ahrhî imagined she could almost feel the cool, stroking fingers of light in the deeper places of her soul, refreshing and invigorating.

" _Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest,_

_Did I look on great Eärendil sloping slowly to the West,_ " she whispered, recalling the song of a traveling bard, whose poignant words had lodged in her memory.

"Is that from a song of Eärendil? I have not heard it before."

Ahrhî rolled over to look at him, smiling ruefully. "Yes, but that is all I remember of it."

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw Haldir sitting fully limned in the starlight. His skin and hair glowed with a silver luminescence everywhere the light touched. Before she could stop herself, she reached out to run her fingertips across his hand in fascination, drawn like a moth to a flame. "You truly glow," she said in wonder.

She looked up to meet his eyes, then froze at what she beheld. A gaze so predatory she feared to move, like a deer before a great wolf. Never had she been looked at in such a way. A strange feeling seemed to crackle like lightning between them, frightening in its intensity. Cautiously, she began to draw back, but Haldir caught her hand and pulled her inexorably closer, until she sat flush against him, sharing the same light that shone on him.

"Could you but see yourself with my eyes, you would know your own light eclipses mine." His vision roved across her face, then captured her eyes once more.

"What do you mean?" she asked, hating the breathless sound of her voice.

"Your inner light, the one that animates you. It blazes like blue flame. _Elnaur_ you are- star fire." He slid a finger down the line of her jaw, his eyes following the movement.

She gasped in surprise. "That….that _is_ my name. Ahrhî Elnaur. How could you know that? I never told you…"

His eyes regarded her steadily as he considered her words. "I did not know. I merely tell you what I see. You are well-named, truly. One question remains to puzzle me: does the fire you carry within merely warm, or does it wholly consume?"

His deep voice trailed off into a low whisper, and she found herself trapped in his blue-eyed gaze. He grasped her arms and again pulled her toward him.

Her eyes widened as she realized he meant to kiss her, but when his lips merely grazed her forehead before pulling her head to rest against his chest, a part of her cried out in disappointment. Her heart pounded fiercely in her breast, and the light of Eärendil cocooned them in silence.

* * *

Poetry excerpt adapted from _Locksley Hall_ , by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Haldir listened to the even breathing of the sleeping woman in his arms, absently stroking a stray curl in mild fascination. He should curse himself for a fool, behaving in such a way with a mortal woman. No good would come of such a dalliance, despite the powerful attraction which flowed undeniably between them. But he found that tonight, with only the two of them, he could shunt aside care.

Tomorrow would come soon enough, and with it, a return to sense and responsibility. No doubt he was intrigued by the mere fact that she was different from any mortal he had ever known, even possessing a strange aura which seemed to call to something in him.

His actions were not truly dishonorable. He had not even deigned to accept a kiss, though he knew from the unguarded look in her eyes, she had been more than willing to give it. He was no thief to steal what would one day belong to her mate, just as he would wish no elf to take precious innocence from whatever female the Valar decreed would be his. If, indeed, he were even meant to have that kind of love.

This weak, foundering woman called to that part of him that was protector and guardian- there could be nothing more. If sleeping in his arms gave her a measure of peace and kept her nightmares at bay, he would grant her that refuge; even if she was unaware of her need.

To admit that he enjoyed touching her did not signify. What male would not? He would never allow simple pleasure to drive his actions. What he did, he did for her benefit.

He drew in a breath of the crisp night air, and allowed his mind to drift into reverie.

* * *

The day was brilliant and fine. The dew on the grass glittered in wet sparkles lit by the sun. They had begun walking as the first light of dawn brightened the horizon. Ahrhî was awoken by the musical call of songbirds, urging all creatures to begin the daily pursuit for sustenance.

They traveled nearly silently, with very little conversation. When they stopped to eat more lembas and rest for a time, Haldir had left her on her own with the excuse of needing to check a nearby outpost. She had begun to suspect he had no wish to be in her presence, and had invented a convenient escape.

Haldir's behavior throughout the day had been courteous, but distant. Confusing when contrasted with his more open and solicitous manner from the previous night, when he had urged her to recline against him. Much to her chagrin, she had fallen asleep while listening to the beat of his heart against her ear. At least she had been spared any embarrassment by waking in her own bedroll, where he had clearly laid her.

He seemed eager to reach the city, and she could only assume it was because he wished to finally be rid of the responsibility of her care. She had longed to explore the ethereal beauty of Cerin Amroth, but beyond a brief and perfunctory explanation of the history of the beautiful flower-covered mound, he had not given her leave to linger.

By the time they had arrived at the outskirts of Caras Galadhon, Ahrhî was beyond tired, her feet were sore, and her spirits were low. She wished for the kindness of Orophin, or the cheerful friendliness of Rúmil. In fact, she felt she would prefer just about anyone to the cool and distant stranger Haldir had become.

They passed through large gates, and she had to stop and stare a moment at the sheer immensity and magnificence of the city. Never had she realized it would be so large, but she had nothing to judge it by. Perhaps this was typical of the great elven realms.

Many silver-haired elves stared openly at her, but most inclined their heads respectfully, and some even spoke a kind greeting. This helped her feel slightly less uneasy than if she had received a hostile welcome, but her nervousness increased the further into the city they ventured. She was grateful that she at least spoke the same language as the inhabitants of Caras Galadhon, or she should feel truly lost.

Haldir took her to a quiet structure adjacent to a peaceful courtyard, and showed her where she was to leave her things. She looked around the dwelling curiously. It seemed to be deserted, and she guessed it was some sort of guest lodging. Similar to the telain she observed throughout the city in design, but at ground level, instead of suspended among the trees. It was far too beautiful to be a prison, and she took comfort from that fact. When she would have sat down to rest, he took her arm and led her on.

When they at last reached the base of the largest tree she had ever beheld, Haldir began ascending the great stairwell. She sighed, and followed him wordlessly. They seemed to climb forever, higher and higher until she dared not look down. Perspiration tickled across her skin, and her face heated with her exertions.

When Haldir finally stopped walking, she took no notice and bumped into him, muttering an awkward apology while swiping at the dampness on her face. He stepped aside and pulled her ahead of him into a large, open receiving area. There were several guards in full armor that stood so still, she had at first glance mistook them for statues. Their swords were the same beautifully curved design as the one Haldir wore at his side.

He had insisted she remove all weapons and leave them with her pack- right down to the small dagger she kept on her belt which she used for nothing apart from trimming the fletchings for her arrows. She wanted to roll her eyes in exasperation, but at the same time, she could admire the lengths he went to, to protect his Lord and Lady. His obvious mistrust was painful, but she sought to conceal her hurt feelings. She forbore to point out that she could not leave behind the weapon she carried inside herself. She did not imagine he would appreciate her stating the obvious.

Ahrhî was admiring the elaborate scroll-work and ivy that clung to the banisters, attempting to differentiate between living tree and non-living wood, when the chamber was filled with light. Gasping at the beauty of the two beings descending the upper staircase, she stared in amazement. She bowed automatically, grateful for the brief respite her obeisance offered, when she felt a delicate brush of power on her mind.

Mesmerized, she stared into the deep blue eyes of the Lady of Light, fascinated at the age and wisdom that rested in her gaze. It was only when Lord Celeborn moved toward her that she was able to look away, and meet his equally ancient and mysterious regard. He also had eyes of blue, but the color was so pale they were nearly grey.

The robes they wore were of purest white, almost painful to behold, and while Galadriel's hair fell in silvery waves, Celeborn's hung straight. He had the bearing of a mighty warrior, and she stepped back unconsciously, horrified at her own, shabby appearance before such magnificent elves.

Haldir's warm grip on her shoulder brought her back to herself, and she straightened her spine, clawing back what small bit of self-respect she possessed. Celeborn smiled warmly, reaching out to take her hands in his, and a distant part of her mind registered that his hands felt strong and callused, as though he often held a sword.

"My Lord," she mumbled, uncertain of the proper protocol in such a situation. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her to greet such illustrious personages.

"Be at ease, child," his rich voice poured over her like warm honey, and she felt her muscles relax slightly, as though his word alone had the power to command her. He examined her face for a long moment, taking her measure. As though he were looking for something, before he turned slightly and addressed Galadriel.

"She does have the look of Árëlen."

Galadriel descended the remaining steps, favoring Ahrhî with a kind smile, before nodding to her husband. "She does, indeed. The likeness is striking."

She then turned to address the bewildered woman. "You have come a great distance on your own, and are weary in mind and body. You will rest this night, and dine with us on the morrow." Her voice carried the power of rushing water mingled with the softness of a breeze.

Ahrhî stared back and forth between the Lord and Lady, baffled by their comments, and more than a little curious. She looked like _who_? Had they somehow known her family? Had her mother come to Lothlórien?

Celeborn squeezed her hands gently before releasing her, and stepping back to stand by Galadriel. When he spoke again his voice carried the gravity of proclamation.

"We welcome you, Ahrhî Elnaur, as our guest. There is much for us to speak about when you have recovered from your journey. All of your questions will be answered, have no fear."

Ahrhî nodded, forcing her racing mind to quiet, and give a proper response. "Thank you, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, for your kind hospitality and generous welcome. I am most grateful."

Galadriel spoke again. "Haldir, please show her to her quarters, and see that she is settled."

He bowed in acknowledgment, and began to lead Ahrhî away, but Celeborn held up a hand to stop them.

"Haldir, return to me after. I would hear your report."

"Yes, my lord."

With a final glance over her shoulder, Ahrhî was lead away.

Celeborn gazed down the steps, a slight curve to his mouth at the sight of his Marchwarden guiding the exhausted female. He turned to Galadriel and found her watching him with an equally amused expression.

"I felt but a pale shadow of the gifts which Árëlen possesses. Do you think it lessens by generation?" Celeborn asked, raising a quizzical brow.

"No, it but lies dormant and waits to fully awaken. The circumstances of her childhood have prevented the full fruition of her gifts. Did you not see the chain around her neck? She does not wear the ring as she ought, and I see she has never received any guidance or instruction. It is well that she has come to us at this time."

Galadriel stepped closer to her husband, and he offered his arm as they walked toward their private rooms. He frowned slightly, still mulling over the recent turn of events.

"I will send word to Círdan. Her family must be informed that she lives."

Galadriel gave a slight nod in agreement.

"Great will be their joy to learn of it."

* * *

Ahrhî stumbled again and fell against Haldir's back with a grunt. He half turned and hauled her up beside him on the stairs.

"Can you not walk two steps at a time without falling? It is as though I lead an invalid," he said in exasperation.

She stiffened and jerked her arms out of his hands. Stung by his biting words, she fell back on anger to hide her hurt.

"Not all are perfect as you are, Marchwarden. We have walked far this day, and I possess neither your strength nor your stamina. You have driven me hard in your great eagerness to be rid of me. You may rejoice, as your liberty is close at hand!"

She hurried off, now taking the stairs two at a time in her haste to reach the dwelling, which was now in sight.

Haldir frowned at her words, then quickly caught up with her, hooking her arm around his to prevent another fall.

He spoke in a low voice to her as they passed several elves who stared at her with frank interest. "Your accusation is unjust and inaccurate. The speed of our travel was necessary. I have duties to attend. I cannot dally in the woods merely for your entertainment."

She stopped and snatched her arm away from him again, raising her voice in protest. "Of what do you speak? I did not wish to _dally in the woods,_ " she said, attempting to mimic his deeper voice.

"You have treated me with more coldness this day than all the ice of winter. I had thought…" Her voice trailed off, and she began walking again, finally stepping through the doorway of the dwelling where her belongings had been left. She turned to face him when they both stood in the common room.

"I had hoped we could be friends, but I see now I was mistaken. There is no need to trouble yourself further with a wretched mortal." She sat glumly on a high-backed chair and stared at him bleakly before allowing her gaze to fall to the floor, expecting him to leave at any second now that he had discharged his duty.

He sighed quietly, his resolve to distance himself crumbling in the face of her dejection. "Have I not seen to your needs? Have I not protected you and offered you comfort? It is my way to be exacting and firm, my position requires it. You insist on seeing criticism and disapproval where none exists."

He walked over to her and knelt so he could look directly into her eyes. Slowly, he lifted her hand and kissed it. "Lady, you have my friendship. You have had it from the beginning."

Ahrhî stared into the fathomless blue of his eyes, nearly choking on the relief that bubbled up at his declaration. She could not say why his words meant so much to her, she only knew they did. She felt the prickle of tears and a tightness in her throat.

"I would have you know how grateful I am for the kindnesses shown me." She gave him a rueful smile. "Despite your somewhat high-handed treatment, at times."

Haldir chuckled, and stood, releasing her hand. "You require a firm hand, woman. Perhaps it is what you have been lacking."

She stood as well, unclasping her cloak and setting it aside, shooting him a sidelong glance. "A firm hand..." she murmured, unconsciously brushing her hand over the fabric that covered her belly.

Haldir's eyes followed the movement, his mouth curved knowingly. "You desire to bathe, I take it?"

Heat rushed to her cheeks, but she lifted her chin defiantly, and crossed the room to stand before him challengingly. Just once, she wanted to have the last word with him.

"That would depend." She gazed at him from under her lashes.

"Indeed? On what, exactly?" His voice was mild, but his gaze was sharp, missing nothing.

She touched a strand of his silken hair, watching as it slipped through her fingers. "On whether you accompanied me, of course."

She leaned forward until her face was inches from his, and his focus shifted to her mouth. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper of sound.

"I desire…" Haldir inhaled as she drew the word out, "to bathe on my own."

She drew back and shot him a saucy smile, already turning away, when his soft laugh stopped her. She glanced back uncertainly, and he closed the distance between them, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

Her heart began to pound rapidly when he laced the fingers of one hand in her hair and gently tilted her head back. She gasped involuntarily when he leaned forward to run his nose along the side of her neck, his warm breath ghosting across her skin and raising goose-flesh.

"You think to tempt me and glibly walk away? You play at things of which you have neither knowledge nor experience. I will give no further warning save this: take care with your actions, all things have consequences." His lips brushed teasingly against the top of her ear, and her eyes fluttered closed. She lifted her arms and rested her fingers on his shoulders, gripping handfuls of his tunic.

"Shall I teach you? Give you the lesson you so obviously crave?" He caught her earlobe in his teeth, tugging gently, and she released a shuddering breath. He drew back enough to look at her and she opened her eyes, turning her passion-glazed regard first to his eyes, then his lips.

He pulled her fully against him, sliding an arm around her back, but when his face came no closer to her, she exerted pressure against the corded muscle of his shoulder, longing for more intimate contact. His slow smile as they stood staring into each other's eyes made her blood run more swiftly through her veins, and a river of desire swept her up in its wild flow.

"Is there something you want from me, _Naurwen_? You have but to ask. It would be my pleasure to grant your request."

Ahrhî fought the conflicting emotions warring within her, half embarrassment at the strength of such unfamiliar desire, and half indignation at his merciless teasing. She tried pulling him close again, hoping it would be apparent to him what she wanted, but he was as unyielding as an oak. Stubborn. His eyes laughed at her, but his arm around her was flexed and the muscles taut with tension, carefully contained.

"Say the words, Ahrhî. I will go no further without them."

She closed her eyes briefly to shut out the sight of his eyes. The hunger reflected there made her dizzy with want, but she could not stop herself from looking back up, desperate to lose herself in what he was showing her.

"Then have the words, Haldir, only kiss me!"

No sooner had she spoken then he lowered his head, his mouth finding hers in a hot, silken glide of lips. Teasing, tantalizing; raising the ardor in them both, and causing a fluttering ache deep in her belly. It was better than she had ever imagined a kiss could be, but somehow still not enough.

A moan spilled from her throat, and Haldir took it into himself. One kiss flowed to the next as seeking lips were soon joined by questing tongues. His tongue teased hers, summoning her to follow him, and she did instinctively, sucking on his tongue and feeling a surge of triumph when he groaned.

A tingling rush of pleasure danced beneath Ahrhî's skin, and the embrace turned more urgent. She moved her hips against his restlessly, reveling in the power of the new feelings he evoked with his touch.

Haldir broke the kiss, holding her away from him, and the wild, scorching look in his eyes gave her a thrill of delight that she could so affect his iron control.

"What is it you do to me, you sorceress?" His nostrils flared as he took deep breaths.

She looked at him in confusion, blushing. Was that not obvious? "I do not understand. Have I done something amiss? I did not mean to displease you, but I am entirely ignorant of such things. Forgive me, it was not my intention to offend." She cast her eyes down, her face hot with mortification.

Haldir lifted her chin and kissed her gently on the lips, once, twice; the former wildness in his eyes now replaced by tenderness and concern.

"You did nothing amiss, nor did you displease me. Very much the opposite. Yet, I felt your power, somehow delving deep within me in a manner I have never experienced."

She smiled shyly at his praise then furrowed her brow in puzzlement. "Oh, I see. You felt that too, then?" At his nod she continued, "I thought it was only me. I know not why such things occur. In truth, I do not hold sway over much of the strangeness within me. When my emotions are most like to overwhelm me is when I seem to have the least control." She bit her lip in uncertainty.

Haldir stroked her cheek while he listened. "I observed such in the wood. While you slept, you were haunted by dreams, and the trees rocked in the force of the great wind which blew. I could not wake you, so I held you until you calmed, and only then did the wind lessen."

She looked embarrassed, and smiled apologetically. "Is that why I woke atop you? Why did you not lay me down again?"

He lifted a teasing brow. "You had a tenacious grip on my hair, and refused to release me. For my own preservation, I allowed you to wake on your own."

Ahrhî laughed in delight. "So the secret weakness of the mighty Haldir is a bit of hair pulling? This I shall remember."

Haldir crossed his arms and gave her a mock glare. "Be careful, woman. Never forget you have weaknesses of your own."

The events of the past many weeks seemed to wash over her suddenly, and her shoulders slumped in fatigue and discouragement. "No, I am never apt to forget my weaknesses, I assure you."

She blinked away the tears that attempted to gather suddenly, when she felt Haldir's arms around her, pressing her head against his chest. He stroked her back soothingly, and she slumped against him, clinging to his strength and comfort.

" _Naurwen_ , you are too hard on yourself. You have suffered a great loss, and must allow yourself a chance to grieve. The ache will not always be so sharp. I, too, know what it is to lose parents."

She hugged him tightly, grieved that he had experienced a similar pain, but touched he would share it with her to offer her solace. She breathed in his spicy, woodsy scent, then lifted her head to look in his eyes. "Why do you call me that?"

He tucked a loose lock of red hair behind her ear. "Are you not a maiden of fire? I will cease, if it vexes you."

She shook her head. "No….I like it. My father had a pet name for me as well- in the common tongue, he called me firebrand."

Haldir nodded, "It suits you, for you have great spirit." He released her and stepped away.

"I must go now, but in the morning I shall have food brought to you and you will be taken to the bathing pools. I will see about suitable attire for you ere you dine with the Lord and Lady."

Ahrhî slowly clasped her hands together, suddenly feeling awkward at all that had passed between them in so short a time.

"Thank you, Haldir."

He gave her a jaunty smile. "Pleasant eve, lady." With that, he slipped through the door and was gone, leaving behind a weary woman.

She walked to the small bed chamber, stripped down to her skin, and climbed between the cool, smooth sheets. She immediately fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of heated kisses, and a stern, blue-eyed gaze.

* * *

Naur- fire

Wen- maiden


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

Celeborn turned the page of the leather bound book he held in his hands, looking up as a knock sounded against the door of his study.

"Enter."

Haldir came in and bowed. "My lord, I am come to give you my report, as you requested."

Celeborn closed the book and set it on the small table beside him, and waved a hand toward a large, cushioned chair across from him.

"Be seated, Haldir, and tell me all that occurred at the fences. Will you take some wine?"

He stood and moved to a tall cellaret, where he removed glasses and opened a fresh bottle. Haldir sat on the chair, watching the silken drapes that hung across the balcony fluttering in the night breeze.

"I will. Thank you, my lord."

When Celeborn was seated again, and they had both tasted their wine, Haldir began to relate the events that had transpired in the past month at the border. He completed his account by recalling the details of the orc attack, and how he and his brothers came to the aid of the woman, and her own dealings with the orcs.

Celeborn rubbed a hand across his jaw in thought. "The evil of Mordor spreads, but it shall not take us unawares." He gave Haldir a long look. "It is well you aided young Ahrhî. It would have been tragic for her to come among her kindred again, only to be lost."

Haldir frowned in confusion. "How so, my lord?"

Celeborn stood again and refilled his glass, but Haldir declined more wine, waiting instead for the explanation to come.

"You know of this, of course," he said, handing the leather book to Haldir.

He examined the book in his hands, turning several pages before answering.

"The history of the fall of Númenor. I have read an account of it in years past."

Celeborn walked to the silken curtains on the balcony's edge, and looked out over the city. The distant sound of singing rose like a prayer from far off.

"It is also Ahrhî's history, for the blood of Númenor yet runs in her veins from her mother."

Haldir nodded in understanding. "She is of the Dúnedain, then. I thought as much."

Celeborn smiled a secret smile. "Did you? Had you not felt something…different about her?"

"If you refer to how she can call upon the elements, I do indeed find it strange. Yet, it could be attributed to distant elvish traits that linger among those of her bloodline."

Again Celeborn smiled, but it was a full grin.

"You will hear all tomorrow eve when we dine, for Galadriel tells the story wondrous fine, yet I would acquaint you with the facts now. There are few in Lórien who know of it."

Haldir listened intently to Celeborn's words, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his thighs. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought, as he considered this unexpected and rather shocking news. It swiftly changed everything he thought he knew about the woman.

"I confess, I am amazed, even though it is not the first such tale ever told, although perhaps it is a bit of a reversal. I think this may well come as a great shock to Ahrhî. She is deep in grief over the loss of her adopted father, though surely she will welcome news of her blood kin."

Celeborn crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "Both Galadriel and I will offer her what support we can, but I saw she took great comfort from you earlier. Perhaps her friendship with you will provide the anchor she needs during this fragile time. That is why I have told you this now. Yet, if I ask too much you need only tell me, and I give you leave to return to the fences. It is entirely your choice if you wish to remain."

A moment of silence passed while Haldir considered what action he should take. Did he truly wish to leave her to deal with these revelations on her own? To resume his duty as though the past many days had not happened. Who could say what her reaction might be with a temperament that was so mercurial? His protective instincts welled up within him, and he had his answer.

"I will remain, my lord, and gladly be what help I may. If you think some good will come of it, then it is well I should stay. I have left Orophin to lead in my place, and he does not look for my immediate return."

"So be it, Marchwarden," said Celeborn with a slight nod, "You have my leave to retire for the night, and we shall speak again on the morrow."

Haldir stood and bowed. "A pleasant eve to you, my lord."

"And to you, Haldir."

After his captain had departed, Celeborn went to stand on the balcony and closed his eyes, letting the song of his people, mingled with the faint sound of their laughter, embrace him like a lover.

* * *

Ahrhî paced across the forest floor outside the guest talan, alternately chewing her nails and nervously toying with the silken ribbons on the gown she wore. She could not recall the last time she wore feminine dress, and she felt uncertain and vulnerable in such attire.

The gown was beautiful, as far as such things went. Sparkling threads of silver standing in contrast to the deep green of the bodice and skirt, the cut of the material emphasizing her feminine shape and curves, the color causing the lighter green of her eyes to sparkle alluringly. Yet, despite such rich beauty she longed for the comforting familiarity of her own clothing. She would choose tunic, trousers and boots any day, over gowns and slippers.

The kind elf maiden who had helped her dress had also offered to arrange her hair, and apart from several strands twisted into graceful braids back from her face, it was left to flow down her back, unbound in a pleasing disarray of bright curls. Her hand went to her side to grip her sword, when she remembered she was not wearing any weapons. She sighed, and let her hand drop forward. How was she going to get through this night?

"You would surely rival the beauty of the night sky, if you would but cease to fidget. It spoils the effect."

Ahrhî turned to look at Haldir, who was dressed for the evening in dark leggings and an embroidered tunic of shimmering copper and crimson. He did not wear his sword, but a gold dagger hung from his waist. His hair reflected the light of the lanterns, which lit the city in a soft glow. She scoffed at his words to cover her embarrassment at his implied praise, even as she admired his appearance.

"How am I to quell my nervousness, pray tell? I have never dined with a Lord and Lady, nor worn such finery." She picked at her skirt, feeling even less certain than before. "I shall disgrace myself," she finished darkly.

Haldir stood before her, and lifted her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles. "Nonsense. You will represent your people with grace and aplomb. Have more confidence in your own ability to charm those around you."

Ahrhî smiled in spite of her worry, goaded to a lightness of spirit by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "How can you be so certain of this?" She fought the laugh that was struggling to break free, and her lips twitched with the effort.

"For the simple fact that I am to escort you this night. I shall see that I present you to great advantage." He winked, and she gave over to gentle laughter, feeling a release of the tension of the day.

"Already I succeed in my endeavor, for the smile you now wear becomes you much more than the frown of but a moment past."

Ahrhî dropped into a graceful curtsy before him, then rose and bit her lip slyly. "Then I shall take great care with my conduct, Sir Warden, if only to prevent the shame that would otherwise taint your name by association."

Haldir laughed softly, enjoying the banter, but was not to be outdone. "Nay lady, for should my name come to be associated with yours, I would count it as an honor."

She held her hands up in surrender, ignoring the warmth spreading through her at his words. "I yield. For truly, your skill in words and your own ability to charm is at least equal to your skill with a bow."

He bowed slightly, his smile still teasing and his eyes glinting with warmth. "It is a testament to your own gift of perception that you acknowledge such."

Ahrhî laughed again, and rested a hand on his forearm. "Cease Haldir, I beseech you! My face is sore from smiling so. How is it you can cheer me so easily?"

A genuine smile lit his features at the sound of her lighthearted laughter, which was a rare thing for a face so accustomed to sternness. Slowly, the smile faded to be replaced by seriousness, and he covered her hand with his own.

"Should you happen to question yourself on the morrow, I beg you would remember you are the same person with the same heart in the light of day, as you are under the stars at this moment. That remains unchanged."

Her brow furrowed in confusion at his enigmatic statement, but he squeezed her hand and urged her to walk beside him. "Come, we must away. For I can see you are greatly in need of a glass of our fine wine."

Her laughter trailed behind them amidst the trees.

* * *

Despite Haldir keeping the conversation light as they walked, her nervousness burst forth again at the sight of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, but she was soon put at ease.

Galadriel embraced her and pronounced her lovely, while Celeborn kissed her hand, and with twinkling eyes, offered her a glass of wine. She slanted a suspicious look at Haldir, but was quick to decline the libation, with thanks.

After they were all seated around the small table in the cozy private chambers of the Lord and Lady, they began eating. The conversation concerning different types of harps flowed around her. She felt more relaxed listening to these great elves argue the virtues of the tones of various instruments; somehow it made them seem more…approachable. Music was certainly something that all races shared a love of, but elves especially.

When they were eating a sweet, fruity dessert Ahrhî had never tasted before, Celeborn asked her to tell them what she remembered of her childhood. She told them the story of being rescued just as Hathor had told it to her, then of her early years growing up as the daughter of a Ranger of the North, always on the move.

They listened with great interest. At times, asking her pointed questions about her gifts, and when she first became aware of them. She was quiet for a long moment before she let herself recall the event from long ago.

"I was just a small child, perhaps four or five years old, I believe. Hathor had brought me to a little village at the edge of the Chetwood, Archet it is called." Here she looked up and caught Galadriel's gaze, and the memories returned with sharp clarity. She closed her eyes and saw the village as it had been long ago.

"The people were kind to us, and we were given a warm place to sleep in the home of the village elder. I recall I had a vivid and terrifying dream that night; so real it seemed." She opened her eyes again, to find three sets of eyes intent on her. Swallowing, she focused on her hands folded in her lap, and continued speaking.

"There were many orcs chasing me in the dream, perhaps hundreds, and I was desperate to escape them. My fear seemed to be a living thing rising in me, and before I knew it, all the creatures were consumed with fire. Their screams grew in volume until I awoke and discovered it was the people in the village screaming which mingled with the happenings in my mind."

She took a deep breath before she sought Haldir's eyes, finding gentle encouragement there. "Four houses inexplicably burned to the ground." She turned guilt-laden eyes to Celeborn and Galadriel.

"A mother and her two children died that night. Hathor slipped away with me before dawn. He must have known, just as I have always known." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It was my fault. I caused those deaths. Innocent people died because of me and the curse I bear."

Ahrhî's eyes held no tears, for she had shed many over the course of her life, but her guilt and regret was thick and heavy, and hung as a pall over them all.

Galadriel rose and urged Ahrhî to follow her to the balcony, her arm around her shoulders, until they were all seated on the comfortable settees under the stars, then the Lady of the Golden Wood spoke.

"You have carried the burden of guilt for much of your young life, but hear me when I say you are not to blame for that tragedy." When Ahrhî opened her mouth to protest, Galadriel held up a hand to stop her.

"Would you fault a bird for singing, or a horse for running? To do so would be to deny the very nature of these creatures. The same can be said of those of us who have been trusted with rare gifts. You are much more than the sum of your gifts, Ahrhî, but you cannot deny that they live in you, and are a part of you. There are times in life when things are beyond our control. That is simple truth. Accept the tragedy of what occurred, but do not accept blame. You were a mere babe, and a babe is not responsible for its actions."

Ahrhî shook her head slightly, still unable to believe she was less than a murderer. Galadriel studied her for a moment before locking eyes with Celeborn, who smiled faintly.

"I will tell you a story now, Ahrhî, which will explain much for you. It is long past time that you knew it. Shall I begin?"

She tilted her head curiously. "Please." Ahrhî wondered if she would at last learn something of her mother.

Galadriel smiled kindly, then her eyes became slightly unfocused, as though she were walking the lanes of distant memory.

"This tale begins in Númenor, nearly one hundred years before it sank beneath the waves of the sea."

Ahrhî frowned in confusion, wondering what bearing ancient Númenor had on her, but continued to listen in silence.

"A woman of the royal house conceived a child from her husband. From that moment, she felt as though a great warmth entered her womb, and as the months passed, the feeling grew in intensity. When the time of birth arrived, the mother felt the child leave her body as a scalding heat. The infant was female, and was crowned with hair of a vibrant red, though both parents were dark-haired.

"Feeling the child was unusual due to the strangeness in the womb, as well as her appearance, the mother believed she was favored by the Valar. The babe was named Árëlen, in honor of the Maia, Arien, who guides the Sun.

"After the birth, the mother was unable to recover strength, and soon passed from this world. The child was raised by her father, but when she reached her majority, he chose to follow his wife in death.

"Árëlen had great love for the gods, and would at times see and hear them while she slept. From her infancy, she was able to call forth and manipulate fire, and to a lesser degree, water and air, and even less frequently, the earth would heed her. She was also an Elf-friend, and as with all the faithful, held fast to the old ways, paying no heed to the ever wicked words of the King's Men.

"As cousin to Míriel, who was the last queen of Númenor before her power was usurped, Árëlen married a noble man who was also of the faithful. Together, they had a daughter, who shared the same physical appearance, as well as the same gifts as Árëlen.

"Númenor fell into ever greater horror under the influence of Sauron, and the faithful were sacrificed on an alter to Morgoth. First, Árëlen's husband was killed, then before her very eyes, her young daughter was put to death."

Ahrhî grimaced, sickened and horrified beyond words that there existed beings with souls so black that they could commit such atrocities. Galadriel nodded slightly in acknowledgment, her eyes filled with great sadness for those long dead. She continued the tale, her beautiful voice filling the night.

"Árëlen fought the murderers with all the power she possessed, but they overcame her and dealt her a mortal wound. As she slipped in and out of awareness, all she later recalled was crying out to Eru Ilúvatar and the Valar, and a distant whisper she could make no sense of, followed by the sound of rushing wind.

"When she awoke, she was surprised to discover that not only was she healed in body, but was told one of the great eagles had brought her to Gil-galad's people. Númenor had sunk under the waves of the sea, and the world was remade. The Faithful that escaped on ships settled in Middle-Earth, but heart broken in her grief, especially at the loss of her child, Árëlen remained with the elves.

"In time, she forged lasting friendships with many. Círdan became as a father to her, but it was not until years later when she met an elf named Sadron, a master of jewel craft, that her heart began to heal. From their first meeting, Sadron loved Árëlen, and wished to wed her, but she was a daughter of men, and mortal. Such alliances are seldom looked on favorably, for the pain it brings to all parties.

"Distraught with the wound of an impossible love, Árëlen went deep into the wilderness alone, to pour out her pain and grief through prayers to the Valar. While there, she fell into a deep sleep, where the gods spoke to her. They gave her a choice: to retain the gift of men, and one day be reunited with her husband and daughter. Or, to become as elfkind, bind herself to Sadron, and along with any offspring they should have, be welcomed into Aman.

"This was a difficult choice. For either way, Árëlen would be forced to part with those she loved. Anguished over how she might come to make such a decision, she lingered in the wilderness for two days with neither food nor drink, and might have continued longer if she were not sent a vision by Nienna.

"She beheld her husband and daughter walking together in a beautiful, verdant field. They were holding hands, and the light of joy was in their eyes. This vision gave her comfort and allowed her to release them and a measure of the grief she carried while she followed a different path.

"Árëlen made the choice to become as one of the elves, and when she returned to Sadron, he immediately saw the change in her. To the joy of many, for they were much loved, they were soon wed. Time passed, and they were blessed by the birth of a son, who they named Artaril, and later by a daughter, named Nauriel.

"It was a curious thing, and is perhaps of little consequence, but their son, Artaril, apart from the deep red of his hair, was as the elves in appearance. Their daughter looked just as her mother, with no elvish traits whatever, but with the same elemental gifts as Árëlen."

Galadriel reached out and lifted the medallion and ring that hung on a chain around Ahrhî's neck.

"Sadron made medallions and rings for Árëlen and Nauriel." She looked into Ahrhî's eyes, a faint smile on her lips.

"The rings are magical and act as a focus, allowing the wearer to more easily wield and control their gift." She unclasped the chain, removed the ring, then placed the ring on the middle finger of Ahrhî's right hand.

Ahrhî stared at the too large ring on her hand, looking on in surprise when Galadriel whispered some unknown words and the ring shrunk to fit her. A sizzle of power lanced forcefully through her, then instantly faded to a pleasant hum.

She lifted her hand before her and reached out to that place within her, and found it responded quickly and eagerly to her will. A small flame danced above each of her fingers, growing and shrinking as she directed. She watched in shocked amazement, before releasing the fire and lowering her hand.

Galadriel re-clasped the chain around Ahrhî's neck, then sat back and watched her silently, waiting patiently for the questions that would come.

Ahrhî glanced at Haldir who was looking at her calmly, but his eyes betrayed a shadow of concern in their depths. Lord Celeborn gave her an encouraging smile.

"You have questions, Ahrhî. Ask. We will answer all we can."

She took a deep breath and looked down at the ring again, mesmerized by the shifting star that seemed alive in the blue stone, touching it as though seeing it for the first time before glancing up.

"This ring and medallion, they belonged to Nauriel then? My.…my mother?"

Galadriel nodded slightly. "They did. Though Celeborn and I had not seen her since she was a small child, I recognize them both."

Ahrhî swallowed, and forced the question past the lump in her throat.

"What happened to her? Do you know the circumstances surrounding her death?"

Celeborn cleared his throat quietly. "We do not know all the details, but I will tell you what we have heard, if you wish it."

She drew a deep breath and nodded.

"We know her bond-mate was a scholar. I am sorry I do not know the name of your father, for I have never heard it spoken. He left their dwelling in Lindon, and set out for Imladris on his own. I believe his purpose was to study an ancient text in Elrond's library. Weeks passed with no word, and unbeknownst to her kin, your mother left in the dark of night for Imladris, taking only you and a close female companion with her.

"Her flight was not discovered immediately, but when it was, her brother Artaril set out with a company of warriors in search of her. They found the ravaged battlefield at Amon Sûl, but little else. You, your mother, and her companion were all presumed lost. As to the fate of your father, nothing was ever discovered. He never arrived at Imladris, and nothing was seen or heard of him after he departed Lindon."

Ahrhî looked from Celeborn to Galadriel and tears filled her eyes, her voice low and rough. "Will you answer one final question for me?"

"Ask, child," Galadriel said.

"What _am_ I, exactly?" She inquired with a fierce expression, and the answer was clearly very important to her. "Am I not of mankind as I have always believed?...can it even be possible… I cannot truly be elfkind…..can I?"

Galadriel looked at Haldir who was sitting tensely on the edge of his seat. He moved to sit beside Ahrhî, and took one of her hands between both of his own, chafing warmth back into fingers that had grown as cold as ice.

Galadriel exhaled a breath and gave the answer she knew Ahrhî had no wish to hear. "You are unique; a joining of first and second born. Your outward appearance is that of mankind, yet you do not share their mortality- your _fëa_ is elven."

Ahrhî pursed her lips, then shook her head, hard-pressed to fully comprehend what she had been told. "I see. Unique." She gave a strained smile to Galadriel and Celeborn, dropping her eyes to the floor for a long moment, then stood. Haldir stood with her, finally releasing her from the firm grip he had on her hand.

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn for telling me of my family history. It is certainly something I could never have discovered on my own. I beg you would excuse me now. I am greatly fatigued and wish to retire, with your leave. I thank you for the excellent dinner."

Galadriel stood and kissed her on the cheek. "Do not let your heart be troubled so. Time will bring much clarity for you, as well as many unexpected and joyful things."

Celeborn surprised her by taking her in his arms and enfolding her in a gentle hug, then placing a kiss on the crown of her head. She had not felt such fatherly affection since she was last held in Hathor's arms, and that caused a tear to slip down her cheek where she hastily wiped it away.

Celeborn and Haldir shared a significant look, something passing silently between the two elves. The Lord of Lórien released the woman, and she curtsied before making a hasty retreat for the door.

Haldir bowed and silently followed his troubled charge.

Celeborn stared at Galadriel, his eyes reflecting an ancient sadness, and he sighed. "I don't know why, but she somehow reminds me of Celebrían."

* * *

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took quite a lot of time to research and write, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> And...I adore Celeborn!


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: Brief mention of self harm in this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

Haldir guided the silent woman beside him, leading her in the direction of a quiet glade with a small stream running through it. Only when he urged her to sit on the lush swath of lawn beside him did she seem to look around and take note of her surroundings.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked in confusion.

"I thought you would find the peace of this place to be a welcome respite before you retire for the night."

Ahrhî smiled faintly, running her fingertips over the cool grass. "You are very kind."

Haldir stretched his legs out before him, bracing his weight against his hand as he leaned back and studied her. "I do not know that I have ever been accused of such before, but if you think me so, I will not disabuse you of the notion."

"Is it for pity or duty that you show me this consideration?" she asked seriously, ignoring his attempt to lighten her mood.

His expression did not change, but his gaze sharpened. "For neither reason. Do you think so little of yourself? My care for you is based entirely on your own merit as a person, not from pity or a sense of obligation."

Ahrhî ripped blades of grass from the ground in anger. "What should I think of myself? Where may I go and feel welcome? If I live among the race of men, I must watch those I would love age and die. Yet I am inferior to the elves and do not belong among any of you either, possessing neither grace nor beauty nor talent." She looked at him and her gaze was dull.

"Do you not see?" she said in a small voice, "I am a mongrel, Haldir, there is no place or people I belong to. I daresay there are none who would even want me, and I cannot blame any for feeling such a way."

His anger kindled, he grasped her firmly by the shoulders, but immediately gentled his grip when she flinched.

"Cease to speak of yourself in this demeaning way. Your vision is falsely clouded by these misguided thoughts of inferiority, but I see you clearly. Both Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel also care for you! Do not doubt my word when I declare you are a person of worth."

Shocked by his passionate words, a warmth bloomed in her chest to discover he seemed to think so well of her; far better than she did of herself. Unexpectedly amused by his fierce defense, she could not resist teasing him a little. "Because you declare a thing, does that make it true? If so, you are powerful, indeed! Your word alone could shape worlds."

Taken aback by her suddenly capricious turn of mood and playful comment, Haldir smiled, his anger spent. "You have a quick tongue, _Naurwen_. It gives me pleasure to speak with you." He released her and stood to his feet.

She smirked, then looked up at him with eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Does my tongue only give you pleasure when I speak, Haldir?"

He laughed softly while she stood and faced him, amused by her boldness. "Nay woman, do not begin such things with me at this late hour. You are in need of rest. Come, I will return you to your talan."

Annoyed at his words as well as his orders, she lifted her skirts and walked to the stream, watching the quick rush of the water flowing past. "I shall return to the talan when I am of a mind to. I require no guide; I remember the way. You may leave me if that is your desire."

Silence greeted her, and she turned to look back at him, but was startled by the touch of his hand in her hair and his presence beside her. His eyes glinted with an intensity that invited caution, and she suppressed a sudden shiver under his regard. "You dismiss me with all the imperiousness of a queen," he said in a deceptively soft tone.

She glared. "You are one to speak. Surely your arrogance and condescension know no bounds!" So focused on his eyes was she, that she took no notice of how he maneuvered her closer to him until a mere breath separated them. A slight smile graced his lips but did not reach his eyes. "We are a match then."

Belatedly realizing his intention but feeling decidedly contrary and not of a mind to cooperate, she attempted to step back, but was kept from escape by the hand he had buried in her hair, firmly gripping the back of her head. When his mouth was but a hairsbreadth from hers, she turned her head, offering only her cheek to him.

He did not allow that to deter him and paid great attention to it, brushing his lips across her skin; soft and delicate, like the gentle caress of a butterfly's wing against the petals of a rose. His whispered words were as warming as his touch. "Why do you deny me? Do you not enjoy my touch or the taste of my tongue in your mouth? Tell me in truth."

Ahrhî struggled to think of a reason why she should deny him, but her thoughts were scattering like leaves in the wind, and it took all her effort to form a coherent reply. "You did not ask. You must say the words, for I will go no further without them." She threw his own demands back at him, and waited breathlessly for his response.

He went still against her neck where he had been nuzzling her beguilingly and drew back to look at her. In his eyes she read a complex mingling of feelings- amusement, approval, annoyance, and desire at the forefront. He dropped his hand from her hair and stood passively before her, but his voice was low and deep.

"Kiss me, _Naurwen_ , give me the pleasure of your lips once more."

Seized by uncertainty but determined not to show it, she placed her hands hesitantly on his forearms. Ghosting her fingertips up his arms, she pressed firmly against his muscled shoulders, finally lacing her hands in the silken hair that rested against his neck and flowed down his back.

Meeting his keen gaze at last, she pulled him down until she was able to press her lips to his. His response was minimal as he stood with his hands at his sides, allowing her to touch him as she wished. Emboldened at having free reign over Haldir, she caught his bottom lip in her teeth, then sucked it gently, running her tongue across the top.

It was at this point that Haldir put aside all forced passivity. His arms caged Ahrhî against him, crushing her breasts against the firm wall of his chest and burying his fingers in her hair once again, and applying gentle pressure to tilt her head back. She sighed with pleasure as he once again assumed control of their kiss, happy to give herself over to his masterful touch.

Only at his grunt of displeasure, immediately followed by his pulling away did she suspect anything was amiss. His smile was rueful but amused. "You seem to have a great penchant for excessive hair tugging. While I am not adverse to some manner of roughness, I confess, I am not overly fond of having my hair pulled. Perhaps in future, I may find other things to occupy your hands with."

Her consternation was quickly forgotten in the face of her curiosity. "What things do you speak of that I should occupy my hands with?"

By this time, Haldir had taken her arm, and was leading her back to the guest talan. "A sumptuous banquet is best savored slowly, and one succulent dish at a time. If you gobble down the main course before you have even tasted the appetizer, you will be left dissatisfied."

He opened the door to the talan and ushered her inside, and she turned to face him, crossing her arms in annoyance. "I would far prefer you to speak plainly. I detest vague analogies."

He smiled at her piqued expression, then proceeded to completely disregard her comment.

"Do you wish to practice your bow skills on the morrow? Or, I could give you a lesson in the sword if you prefer. I believe you have no liking for idleness."

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed by his abrupt change of subject, but finally nodded. "Thank you, some practice would be most welcome. I know I need to improve my sword skills. I am a poor student though, I warn you."

Haldir came and kissed her on the cheek, preparing to leave. "A student is only as good as the teacher. We shall see how you fare under my tutelage."

He turned to leave, but she caught his hand, stopping him. "Wait! Will you unbind me from these laces 'ere you go? I have no wish to sleep in this gown."

He inclined his head. "Of course."

She turned and presented her back to him. He made quick work of the laces that held the gown closed, and as they loosened, the scar on her right shoulder became visible. He reached out to trace the small mark that was a testament to the danger she had faced.

"How did you come by this, Ahrhî?" His voice was unusually grave, and the use of her proper name almost sounded strange from his lips, so quickly she had grown accustomed to his pet name for her. She looked back over her shoulder at him, bringing her fingers up to trace the old scar.

"A poisoned orc blade when I was but nineteen. He snuck up behind me while I supported Hathor from a distance with my bow." Her expression turned harsh, a bitter twist to her mouth. "I repaid him for his unwelcome gift. I gutted him with his own blade."

Wanting to remove the grim look from her eyes, he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, and was rewarded by a smile when he released her.

"I shall come for you in the morning. Rest well."

She clutched the gown against her to hold it in place. "Good night, Haldir."

He closed the door softly behind him, and Ahrhî stood for some time in the same spot he had left her in. She rubbed her forehead, which had begun to throb as she thought of all she had learned since entering the realm of Lothlórien.

* * *

Haldir started away from the guest talan, when Rúmil came bounding up the path, smiling as he stopped in front of Haldir.

"Greetings, brother. I see you have been keeping our fair guest occupied. I was just going to visit Ahrhî."

Haldir clapped him on the shoulder. "Well met, Rúmil. You cannot visit her this night as she has already retired. I take it that all is well at the fences?"

Rúmil gave him a suspicious look, leaned close to him and sniffed, then laughed knowingly. "All is quiet at the border, Haldir, but perhaps it is not so quiet here."

Haldir crossed his arms, waiting for the inevitable teasing that was so much a part of his youngest sibling. He sighed. "To what are you referring? As if I could not guess," he muttered.

He slipped an arm around Haldir's shoulders, and they began to walk to their own talan.

"You smell strongly of woman, brother. Her scent is all over you. I told Orophin you were not so indifferent to her, as he seemed to think." He looked at Haldir closely. "I think you have kissed her, have you not?"

Haldir gave him an icy glare. "That is not your affair."

Rúmil snickered. "Nay, brother, but I think it may be yours." He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Orophin owes me a bottle of wine."

Haldir shrugged Rúmil's arm off. "Do not speak of her so disrespectfully. She is a complete innocent."

Rúmil grinned and shook his head. "Perhaps she was _before_ she met you, but I wager she will not remain that way for long."

"You are unspeakable, Rúmil. I think you should keep your distance from Ahrhî, as you are likely to have a corrupting influence on her."

He laughed. "You need not fear my influence. I have no wish to relieve her of any innocence." He stared pointedly at Haldir. "Can you make the same assertion?"

Haldir turned from his brother and began walking away. "You go too far, Rúmil."

"Just mind you do not do the same, Haldir," he called with a smug grin.

Haldir continued on his way, the only outward sign of his disapproval, a slight clenching of his jaw.

* * *

Despite a valiant effort to rest, sleep eluded Ahrhî. Her mind was a tumbling mess of shifting thoughts and emotions. Everything she had always known of who she was, the very basic assumption of her own mortality, had been swept away in a single night. It seemed impossible that she could feel even more adrift and alone than when she learned of Hathor's death, but she did.

How was she to reconcile with this new reality? Who was she really? Would the knowledge that she would never wither with age change the way she lived her life? Should it?

She growled in frustration at the futile ramblings of her mind, and threw back the bed covers. Rising, she dressed quickly in her own clothing, which had been cleaned and returned to her smelling faintly of her favorite lavender scent. Was it her imagination, or did the cloth of her tunic seem softer as it glided against her skin?

With precise movements, she buckled on her sword, then after only a brief hesitation, grabbed her quiver and bow. Pushing away all thought, she concentrated solely on her immediate goal- finding the practice field and releasing some of the nervous energy coursing through her veins.

Closing the door behind her with a soft click, she debated for a moment, before choosing a direction and setting off. The night sky still showed no sign of daylight, and she had not the patience to delay until Haldir should come for her.

Following a twisting path, she breathed deeply of the sweet air and wondered if getting lost might not be just the distraction she needed, when she nearly ran face-first into an elf. Strong hands gripped her shoulders to prevent the collision, and she looked up, but could not make out the features of the one who held her in the dark, beyond the impression of male strength.

"I beg pardon! I did not see you in my distraction. Pray forgive me for my clumsiness."

A low chuckle greeted her ears before she found herself pulled into an open courtyard lit by lanterns.

"Rúmil," she exclaimed in delight, finally recognizing him. He pulled her into a quick hug before releasing her to look into her eyes, then embraced her again. She laughed and pushed him away.

"Such affection, Rúmil! I might almost think you had missed me these past days."

He planted a loud kiss on her forehead, then favored her with a slightly naughty grin. "I have indeed missed you, Ahrhî. The memory of your song has haunted my nights."

She winced in sympathy. "That I can believe, and you have my profound apologies. Shall I vow never to sing again, even should I drink more wine than is prudent, as a way of making amends?"

Rúmil laughed heartily before shaking his head. "Nay. I would have you make no such vow. I would not willingly miss hearing another drunken song from your lips, lovely maiden."

She blushed and looked away, strangely flustered and uncomfortable at his false flattery. "Rubbish," she muttered in annoyance.

He gripped her chin and turned her head to meet his curiously amused gaze. "You truly cannot accept a compliment, can you?"

She stepped back from him, discomforted by the over familiarity of his touch. Ignoring his question, she posed one of her own. "I was seeking the practice grounds. Would you be so kind as to direct me?"

He smiled congenially and bowed, then swept his arm to the side. "This way, Ahrhî."

She walked beside him eagerly, but did not miss the look of mischief he shot her way.

"What say you to a bit of friendly competition?"

She chewed her lip uncertainly.

"What exactly did you have in mind, Rúmil?"

* * *

As the light of dawn brightened the sky, Haldir approached the practice area, a frown on his face at not finding Ahrhî in the guest talan, when he spotted Lord Celeborn standing next to a tall hedge. He was wearing his sword at his waist, and his expression was clearly amused by what he was observing. Already aware of the presence of the other elf, he turned slightly to beckon silently for Haldir to join him. Curious, he came to stand next to his lord to see what had captured his attention.

Rúmil and Ahrhî were taking turns shooting their arrows at a distant target. From their demeanor, it appeared to be a test of skill, but Rúmil looked tense. Perhaps even frustrated? Strange. Haldir looked to Celeborn for an explanation.

"Rúmil seems to be steadily losing to young Ahrhî, but he has not yet figured out why."

Haldir's brows rose in surprise. Rúmil was one of the best archers in all Lórien. He had taught both of his younger brothers himself, and it was no small point of pride for him that his brothers skills nearly matched his own.

Celeborn chuckled quietly, easily reading the incredulity on his Marchwarden's face, but he merely returned his gaze to the two combatants.

"Just watch."

Ahrhî took her place, raised her bow and nocked her arrow, then taking careful aim, released. Her arrow struck just slightly left of dead center. Haldir smiled. Rúmil would easily hit dead center on his turn.

Ahrhî smiled sweetly at Rúmil, her expression entirely guileless, but as they switched places for him to take his turn at the target, it quickly became apparent how his brother was being beaten.

Rúmil readied his bow, carefully sighting on the target, but just as he released his arrow, Ahrhî, who was standing behind him and well out of his field of view, raised her hand surreptitiously. A sudden gust of wind blew across the field, changing the course of the arrow mid-flight. When it landed, it was far to the right of center, on the edge of the target.

Haldir was indignant at this trickery, but Celeborn's quiet laugh made him realize that his lord was closely observing him and obviously entertained by his reaction. "Never underestimate a determined female, Haldir," he said, and clapped him on the shoulder fondly. "I must be about my day, but enjoy your training." With that, he strode away, a smile still on his lips.

Returning his attention to the archery field, he found the situation much changed. Ahrhî was laughing helplessly now, clutching her middle, and Rúmil was advancing on her menacingly with a mock glare, having obviously figured out how every one of his arrows had gone astray. She threw up a hand to ward him off.

"Nay, Rúmil, you must show mercy to a weak and defenseless woman. It was just a harmless jest! We both know you are the superior bowman. Your skill is so far beyond mine, you know it was never a fair contest from the start."

But he did not stop advancing on her until he held both of her wrists in a loose but unbreakable grip.

"Defenseless? Ha! You have more wiles than any female I have ever known. Harmless it was not, lady. You made me doubt my own abilities, and for that you must pay what penalty I deem fit."

Still laughing, but obviously trying to compose herself, she bit her lip. "Very well, I will submit to your penalty if it is not too severe. What shall I do? Wash your clothing? Clean your sword? Name the menial chore, and it shall be done."

He smiled rakishly and shook his head. "I require something more agreeable. For your penance…a kiss."

He spun her around and winked at her conspiratorially before he lowered his head and barely brushed his lips just to the right of her mouth. She was so flabbergasted by this turn of events that she did not immediately understand his intent, but when she heard someone loudly clearing their throat and then saw Rúmil's triumphant grin, she began to. He turned to face his elder brother with a nonchalant expression.

"Ah, Haldir. Good morn, brother. I have just been teaching Ahrhî the consequences of cheating. I daresay she is now prepared to receive your instruction in swordplay."

Smiling broadly at Haldir's disapproving frown, Rúmil gathered his quiver and bow, then wrinkled his nose humorously at Ahrhî, which made her press her lips together and look away to hold in her laughter, before setting off whistling a bright tune.

Glancing back one final time to see Haldir glaring at a blushing Ahrhî, Rúmil felt fully recompensed for his trouble.

Ahrhî smiled uncertainly at Haldir, but his cool gaze caused the smile to slip from her face. She crossed her arms in irritation, wondering what she had done to earn his disapproval this time.

"Draw your sword," he said quietly, "and be aware that I am not so easily taken in by deceitful tactics as Rúmil."

Sighing as she fully understood the source of his censure, she sought to explain. "Haldir, it was a mere jest, there was no harm…"

He held up his hand to stop her. "Perhaps it means very little to you, but we take our bow skills very seriously here. Rúmil has worked many long years to acquire his level of proficiency- nearly equal to my own, yet you made a mockery of him. Now, draw your sword."

She continued to stare at him, stinging at his rebuke. Surely it was not as serious as he made it out to be? Rúmil had not seemed offended, merely amused by her antics. Perhaps she should seek him out and apologize. She had no wish to jeopardize her friendship with the fun-loving elf…

The sudden strike aimed at her head nearly caught her off guard, but she reflexively drew her weapon and countered. She was ever grateful for the years of sword practice that had drilled something into her very body, even if she had never excelled at it.

She blinked in a daze as she found herself on her back looking at an expanse of blue sky, cold metal at her throat. She met Haldir's icy eyes before he withdrew his blade.

"You are dead," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your weight was unevenly distributed, making you an easy target for toppling. You have ingrained bad habits, therefore I think it best we begin from the beginning. We will start with proper stance."

When she made no attempt to stand, he stalked to her and hauled her to her feet. "Come, let us begin."

When she glared mulishly, he raised a brow in impatience. "Do you wish to learn, or not?"

"No, I do not think I do. I believe I have had more than enough for the time being. Good day, Haldir."

She gathered her weapons, then quickly fled down a different path than the one she had previously taken. When she judged she was far enough away that he would not hear her, she broke into a run. She ran and ran, long and hard and far until her lungs burned and she came to the edge of a great river. Throwing off her bow and quiver, she flopped face down onto the grass and cried.

She cried for the loss of Hathor, and the loss of the future she had expected to share with him. She cried for the loss of the world of mankind she had always thought herself part of. And she wept bitterly over her desire to belong somewhere, when she now knew she never would. She was not truly an elf, she was not fully human. She was nothing. She was no one. Not for the first time, she fleetingly longed for death. For the cessation of the raw ache in her heart.

She sat up and wiped at her dirt and tear-stained face. With her left hand, she pulled her small dagger from her belt and stared at the silvery reflection in the overcast light. She drew the point of the blade down her right index finger and watched as the crimson drops welled from the wound and dripped down onto the green grass. The physical pain was a welcome change from the more profound wounds in her heart. She cut a second finger, then a third, mesmerized by the dripping red liquid that bound her spirit to her body.

A rumbling snort to her left interrupted her musing, and she glanced over to behold a black-skinned orc, his tongue darting eagerly from his mouth as he scented her blood. It came to her like a flash; a sudden, stark clarity. Her pain, the death of her loved ones, every misfortune she had ever suffered were due to _these_ creatures and the evil that formed and guided them.

She clenched her bleeding fingers into a fist and made a promise to herself: she would not die willingly as long as there were orcs roaming Middle-earth. She would do all she could in her future life to eradicate the foul creatures into oblivion.

She stood to her feet and drew her weapon. Her blood coated the hilt of her sword, sealing her life-force to her renewed purpose. She lifted her blade to the darkening sky as evidence of her blood oath.

"Valar! Guide me and use me as a weapon against evil!"

With loud shrieks, the black orc and the four companions that followed behind him that surrounded her, rushed her as one. With furious hatred, she raised her other hand and sent the call of her gift to the heavens. Bright, white lightning forked down, jumping from one orc to the next in a sizzling heat that consumed them all where they stood.

Their charred remains fell to the earth at the same time her own body hit the ground, her exhaustion complete and her strength utterly spent.

Minutes, hours, she could not tell how much time passed as she stared at the bloody hand clutching her sword, her mind empty of all thought and body consumed by fatigue. She must have slept for a time, for she was awakened by soft voices speaking quietly next to her.

Haldir.

His eyes were filled with worry. She smiled inwardly to see it, infinitely preferring his concern to his anger and disapproval. He carefully pried her hand from her sword hilt and examined it, clenching his jaw as he glanced at her again.

So, he discerned she had injured herself. Ahrhî closed her eyes tiredly, sighing as she felt the warmth of him healing the deep cuts on her fingers. He lifted her in his arms, and it took most of her remaining strength to wrap her arms around his neck. He began walking with her, whispering to her in a fierce voice.

"When you are well again, we will talk, _Naurwen_. I will talk and you will listen. If I have to bind and gag you, you _will_ heed me."

She wanted to laugh at his domineering ways, a weak smile lifting her lips, but her fatigue was stronger, pulling her back down into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

~o~


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

It took a full night and day, a fussy healer, and several foul tasting potions before Haldir felt Ahrhî was recovered enough to be allowed out of bed. She suspected the potions were more punishment than anything else. She was not unwell, merely exhausted. If Ahrhî thought Hathor had been strict with her as a child, she was being introduced to an entirely new level of severity with the elf.

True to his word, Haldir waited until she was well, then he sat her down on a chair in the sitting room of the guest talan. He gave her a curt order to keep silent, then he began to speak. Forcefully and at great length. She expected to be chastised for being foolhardy and thoughtless, she had prepared herself for it. But his actual words shocked her to the very depths of her soul. Even many days later, as she sat alone by a flowing stream in the brilliant light of day, she continued to hear his words echoing inside her head.

" _Seeking to do away with your life is the ultimate act of cowardice. It is running from what you fear to face, rather than confronting the difficulty and hardships set in your path with courage and bravery. You cannot gain strength if you run from a foe- even if that foe is yourself. To do so is to embrace shame and defeat._

" _Moreover, it is supremely selfish. Consider what you have suffered with the loss of Hathor- what you continue to suffer. You would seek to end your own pain by willingly inflicting deep grief on those that care for you? Can you not see that your actions affect more than just yourself!_

" _You must consider each thought, each step you take. If that is not something you are able to do, you must put yourself under the guidance of those who will make wise decisions on your behalf."_

She had listened uncomfortably as he pointed out things she had never realized nor considered, but she did make haste to correct his assumption that she would have taken her own life. She _had_ hurt herself while longing for death, so it was a rather fine line, but still, there was a difference. It was his final comment that had truly shaken her.

" _When next you are tempted to act in haste, first ask yourself this: will my actions shame those I love, or will it bring honor to their name? Will it make my father smile?"_

Still, she had not fully felt the truth of his words until Haldir had walked out, and Rúmil had walked in, looking more serious than she had ever seen him. Gone were the teasing smiles and winks she had grown accustomed to, and in their place his eyes were serious with a sheen of unshed tears. She stood from the chair, startled at the undisguised emotion on his face. He looked at her a long moment, then pulled her into his arms for a fierce hug that threatened to crack her bones.

" _I felt great fear when we first found you, Ahrhî. I thought you dead, and my heart wept. Never do such a thing again! I bear as much love for you as though you were my own sister."_

Amazed that he should have such feelings for her in such a relatively short amount of time, she leaned back to look at his face, only to see the tears running unheeded down his smooth cheeks. Her own sudden rush of emotion at his open words and behavior, caused her tears to flow as well.

" _Forgive me, Rúmil! I would never willingly cause pain to you nor any other. I have loved you for your kind and generous spirit from our first meeting. You would do me great honor if you allow me to treat you as the elder brother I always wished to have."_

She reached out to wipe his tears, and he smiled and did the same for her.

" _Then let it be so between us, little sister."_

He ruffled her hair affectionately, and she shot him a long-suffering look that caused him to laugh.

" _It is a brother's prerogative to vex and annoy his sister. I would not be found remiss in my duties."_

Ahrhî laughed and attempted to hit him playfully, but he caught her hands behind her back, and proceeded to tickle her breathless. He finally gave in to her cries for mercy, and favored her with a teasing grin, though his voice was sincere.

" _You should laugh more, Ahrhî. It brings joy to those who hear it."_

She shoved his hands away, fearing a renewed attack.

" _I shall always laugh if you are close by, Rúmil. Indeed, I do not think I will be able to stop, for the mere sight of you brings mirth!"_

The memory of their conversation caused her to laugh softly as she stretched her hand over the water absently, causing a small vortex to rise from the stream in a liquid dance.

"Naurwen."

Haldir's voice came as no surprise. She had been aware of his presence for several moments, and she wondered how long he had actually been standing behind her, silently watching. She dropped her hand and looked over her shoulder, hearing the water splash as it returned to its accustomed channel.

"Greetings, Haldir."

There was much she longed to say to him. To explain herself, even to thank him for showing her truths she might not have known but for him, yet he was already speaking again. She stood to her feet and faced him.

"Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel wish to speak with you."

And just that easily the new comfort and serenity she had begun to enjoy turned to trepidation, her expressive face immediately betraying her.

"You need not feel anxious. Though there are things the Lord and Lady would discuss with you, they have left your chastisement entirely in my hands."

His smile seemed a promise of things to come, and though his words appeared to be an attempt to set her at ease, she did not sense that was his true intent. Her mouth opened and she stared at him incredulously. "You have more to say to me? More you wish to berate me with?"

He shook his head. "Nay. I have said all on that subject that I care to. You have a kind heart and a quick mind, and I know you have thought carefully on my words. Now is the time to see them turned to action. Come."

He extended his hand and she slipped her fingers into his. He rubbed his thumb gently across her skin, his attention focused on their joined hands. When he raised his gaze to hers there was a weight, a gravity there she had never previously beheld. The blue of his eyes were as fathomless as the sky, and she felt her heart pound rapidly as she seemed to fall endlessly into their depths.

He appeared to be looking for something in her eyes, or trying to tell her something that she could not understand. If only she could know his thoughts! Was she only imagining things based on her own feelings and desires? How could this one look from him feel far more intimate than all the kisses they had shared?

Her gaze slid away from his when she was no longer able to bear the intensity of his regard, which to her, felt much like touching something too hot. It was simple preservation to withdraw from something that burned, was it not? She peeked at him again, but his eyes were blank now, no longer reflecting any emotion, and they began their walk in silence.

Haldir took her, not to the great staircase as she expected, but to a lush garden she had never seen, blooming with fragrant flowers. The Lord and Lady were in sight when Haldir stopped and kissed her hand.

"I take my leave of you now. I return to the fences today."

She felt as though the breath had been knocked from her. "Oh..." She bit her lip hard to ground herself. "Yes, of course, you must attend to your duty." She tried to push away her sudden feelings of loss and abandonment.

"Rúmil will remain behind for some time yet. No doubt his antics will keep you entertained."

Though she was glad she would not have to give up Rúmil's company anytime soon, it did nothing to lessen her disappointment. She had been with Haldir for many weeks now, coming to rely on him in ways she had not previously realized, and the prospect of parting from him gave her a sharp ache in her chest. She rubbed at it unconsciously, but gave him a brilliant smile in an attempt to hide her feelings. She had come to depend on him too much, and needed to learn to rely more on her own strength.

"May the Valar watch over you, Marchwarden. Until we meet again…be well."

He gave her a final searching look and smiled dryly. "And you, _Naurwen_." He bowed, with his hand pressed to his heart, then walked swiftly away.

She drew a fortifying breath, then turned to venture deeper into the garden. Galadriel rose and walked to meet her. "How are you, child?"

The question seemed to encompass more than just an inquiry as to her physical well-being. She kept her gaze carefully averted from the wise elleth, but ended up looking into the perceptive eyes of Celeborn instead. She swallowed and braved a look at the lady, and relaxed at the understanding and compassion she met there.

"I am well enough, thank you, Lady Galadriel."

"Come and have some refreshment, Ahrhî. You have fully recovered from the orc attack of last week?" Celeborn asked.

He gestured to the table near him containing various juices and sweet cakes. She helped herself to a glass of fruit juice, then seated herself across from the Lord and Lady.

"There was really nothing the matter with me beyond physical exhaustion. I was not injured, my lord. I think perhaps Haldir was overly cautious in regards to my health."

Celeborn and Galadriel shared a look when Ahrhî lowered her eyes to drink from her glass. "Indeed. We thought you might be ready for more active employment, and Galadriel and I have a proposition for you, if you would care to hear it."

Ahrhî looked up suddenly, and nearly choked on her beverage in her haste to reply. "I would eagerly hear anything you wish to say. Your kindness and generosity to me has been more than I could ever repay. I would gladly undertake any service that you both think me worthy to perform."

Galadriel reached over and took a honey cake and nibbled on it while Celeborn spoke again.

"I believe you have come to some decisions within yourself since we last spoke?"

She nodded, no longer surprised when Celeborn and Galadriel seemed to read her like an open book. "I wish to fight evil however I may, my lord. I will never rest while wicked things roam Middle-earth. How can I when they have so affected my life and the lives of others?" Her green eyes took on a fierce light that looked almost wild.

Celeborn's eyes took on an answering fierceness and his grim smile would have made any enemy flinch away in fear.

"And so you shall, but you must first be prepared if you are to vanquish the forces that will seek to oppose you," Galadriel said.

"How must I prepare, my lady? I am yours to command as you will."

"You must practice your elemental gifts as much as you are able, so you will not tire so quickly when you use them in future. Like bodily muscles, you need to exercise them to increase in strength. I will assist you in this." Galadriel sipped from the goblet she held.

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel, I will gratefully receive the help you offer. I have wished in the past for someone I could consult in this."

Celeborn stood and walked to a nearby tree, resting his forearm against it, and Ahrhî was again struck by the aura of power that surrounded him. He would surely be a formidable warrior, should she ever chance to see him in battle. He gave her a long, considering look.

"You will also train with Rúmil to improve your bow skills, and I will train you in the sword myself."

She stared in amazement at his declaration, then looked at Galadriel who seemed amused by her reaction. Finally, the power of speech returned to her.

"You honor me greatly, my lord. I will try not to disappoint you with my efforts."

Celeborn crossed his arms and smiled. "I feel certain you will not disappoint, Ahrhî. When Galadriel and I deem you sufficiently ready, you will report to the fences, and be under Haldir's command there."

* * *

How she managed to nearly make it back to her talan Ahrhî had no idea. So excited was she by all the things in store for her that she scarcely took note of her surroundings as she walked. Being sent to assist in protecting the border was unexpected, to be sure, but it explained some of Haldir's earlier cryptic behavior.

Her only concern was how much more severely he might treat her when he had absolute authority over her. She pushed aside her worry. After all. he was just an elf, not an orc. Fully capable of being kind and reasonable as long as she showed the proper respect, which she fully intended to do. How much worse could it be?

She shrieked in surprise when Rúmil seemed to appear out of nowhere and casually put his arm around her shoulders. She slapped at his chest in annoyance which made him laugh.

"How many times must I ask you to warn me before materializing from nothing?! Whistle a tune or something, for pity's sake. I was not blessed with your extraordinary hearing."

"That would take all the fun from it, Ahrhî. You are so easy to startle that I find it impossible to resist. And did I not say that I shall take my brotherly responsibilities seriously? It is a brother's duty to plague his siblings as much as he is able."

She swore at him in Westron, fully aware that he spoke little of the language. He frowned and looked at her.

"Just what exactly did you call me, young lady? I may not speak that tongue, but I certainly understand from your tone of voice that it was less than complimentary."

She smirked and made a mental note to speak in a sweeter tone when she cursed him in future. "You will have to find someone willing to teach you Common Speech, or else remain ignorant, for you will not learn it from me."

Rúmil crossed his arms and gave her his best severe look, which only made her snicker irreverently. "It will go ill for you should you offend your archery instructor, young one. Never forget, I have the power to make your life difficult, should I choose to."

Ahrhî dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together in mock supplication, her expression pleading. "I beg you, my Lord Rúmil! Have mercy on me. I am but a poor, ignorant child and I throw myself at your feet. Do not cast me off, please!"

Soft laughter erupted from behind, and she twisted slightly only to behold two ellyn and an elleth, all unknown to her, and obviously having witnessed her silly behavior. She looked back at Rúmil in embarrassment, but he patted her head as though she were his pet dog, and grinned at the other elves.

"She is under the care of a healer at present, but should be returned to her right mind 'ere long, never fear."

Ahrhî stared at him in horror, but he burst into laughter and pulled her to her feet, quickly leading her into the guest talan and shutting the door behind them.

"Rúmil," she sputtered, "you are impossible!"

"Ah, now Haldir has even taught you to speak like him. What else have you learned from him, I wonder?"

She stared at him wide-eyed. "I… Whatever can you mean?"

"Why, only that you seem to have fallen prey to Haldir's rather brusque form of charm. You enjoy his kisses, do you not?"

She gasped, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. "He told you that? But...that was private! And what else has he told you? Am I merely fodder for gossip?"

Rúmil threw back his head and laughed heartily. "He told me nothing at all, Ahrhî, but you have! I suspected, but I lacked the confirmation which you have just so kindly provided me with."

She stalked to the door and opened it, giving him a black look fueled by her further anger and embarrassment over what she had been tricked into admitting. "Leave please. I have had my fill of your company, for the present."

He walked to her and ruffled her hair, which made her growl in anger.

"Do not be vexed, sweet. I really came to tell you to meet me at the archery field at midday for your first lesson. You may imagine the target is my face, and thereby greatly increase your accuracy."

With a jaunty smile he left, and Ahrhî slammed the door behind him.

* * *

The days turned into weeks and quickly passed by as Ahrhî went diligently from one lesson to the next. Many times she had met with Galadriel, and all she had been shown through mind touch had left her in complete awe of the powerful Lady. Ahrhî's training had increased both the strength and scope of her call of the elements, and Galadriel's pleased smile was of more worth to her than the finest gold.

She had also managed to improve somewhat under Rúmil's tutelage. Despite his incessant teasing, she had forgiven him after he had sworn never to betray her confidence, and they had grown even closer through all the time they spent together. She would never be able to best him in archery, but a sudden gust of wind would, at times, mysteriously blow his arrows off course.

It was in her sword skills where she had enjoyed the greatest increase in proficiency. Celeborn proved to be an excellent and patient teacher. To her surprise and delight, the Lord of Lórien was very pragmatic where she was concerned. Due to her lesser strength and weight, he had no scruples at teaching her what others might deem dishonorable, or dirty fighting skills.

He encouraged her to learn and practice any and every move that would bring her victory- whether it meant throwing sand in the eyes of her opponent, or kicking a male in his most sensitive area to bring him down. Sparring with him always proved to be her favorite part of the day.

* * *

She circled warily, her sword held loosely before her. Celeborn attacked first with a series of rapid blows, but she countered them and grinned at him. Obviously, he did not use his full strength or speed, but neither did he pull his strikes. Usually, he gave exactly as much as he knew she could handle, yet he seemed to be taking it a little too easy on her this day.

"You are being too gentle with me, my lord. I have never before been able to counter every one of your thrusts."

He smiled and shrugged. "Your speed has improved. Moreover, that which you struggled with in the beginning has now become second nature, and you move by instinct, just as you ought."

He came at her faster than before, then feinted and struck at her unguarded side. She dove to the ground to avoid his sword, then brought her own blade up just in time to parry his blow. He lowered his blade and extended a hand to pull her to her feet.

"That was nicely done. I was unsure if you would be able to counter that at the last, but your movement was admirable."

She dusted the grass and dirt from her bare arms since she preferred to fight in a sleeveless tunic that allowed for greater freedom of movement. She glanced at him ruefully and blew at the strands of hair that always seemed to fall in her eyes, no matter how often she tied them back.

"Barely begun, and already I am filthy. I believe there is something in elves that seems to repel dirt, while something in mankind attracts it. Would that I had gleaned more from my elvish heritage."

Celeborn swung his blade in a wrist loosening movement and smiled at her. "You are exactly as you were meant to be, Ahrhî. Were you other than you are, you would not be you."

She tilted her head and stared at him a moment before nodding slowly. "I see your point. I suppose it could be worse, after all - I might be an orc. Even at my worst, I am not that disgusting."

Celeborn chuckled in amusement. "That was not exactly the point I was attempting to convey, but at least you are able to look at the positive side, instead of compiling lists of all your perceived faults."

She blushed and glanced at him sheepishly. "Is that what I do?"

He reached out and squeezed her arm gently. "Nay, young one. Not so much as you did in the beginning. Now, attack me, imagine I am an orc."

It was her turn to laugh. "I cannot imagine such a thing, for you are far too beautiful."

Celeborn lifted a brow at her statement and rested his sword against his shoulder. "Beautiful?"

She blushed and stammered, fearful she had insulted him. "Forgive me, lord, I meant no offense. Perhaps I should have said handsome? Or uh, attractive, powerful…"

He held out a hand to stop her and smiled. "Cease, Ahrhî, I believe I have the gist of it. But why should you find it difficult to picture me as your enemy?"

"I could just as easily try to picture the sublime beauty of the Lady Galadriel as an orc. It is far too ludicrous an image, and my imagination does not extend that far. I believe I _can_ picture you as a person that wants to kill me, however. Especially when you get that look in your eye…" She trailed off, suddenly recalling whom she was speaking to, and glanced at him quickly, but he seemed oddly delighted by her words.

"What look would that be, child? Enlighten me."

She bit the inside of her cheek and looked away. "A fierce look you wear whenever I speak of slaying orcs or fighting evil." She turned back to face him, and thought he looked rather bemused.

"Yes, I am aware of what you speak." He smiled slightly. "Galadriel calls it my battle countenance. You have one of your own, you know. Show it to me now. You must be able to leash and unleash it at will. Hold nothing back when you come at me. Attack!"

The test of skill went on for nearly an hour, and when Celeborn finally called a halt, Ahrhî was leaning over, breathing heavily, but she was happy. Celeborn sheathed his sword and nodded his approval.

"You have applied yourself to your studies with diligence and proven yourself able. You may go and prepare to depart, Ahrhî. You will leave with Rúmil for the fences at first light."

"Thank you, my lord. I could never have achieved so much were it not for your excellent guidance, and that of Lady Galadriel." She straightened and turned to walk away when Celeborn took her arm to stop her.

"Should you find things different than you supposed, or you are unhappy at the border, you may return to Caras Galadhon at any time. You are under no vow or obligation to remain there should you not wish to."

She could see he still had more to say, so she kept silent, and waited for him to continue. "For as long as you do remain, however, you will be under Haldir's authority. And as such, I ask you to remember to accord him with the respect he is entitled to."

She nodded earnestly. "I would never betray the trust you have shown me by bringing dishonor to you, my lord. You may rely on me to behave in an appropriate manner toward the Marchwarden, with all manner of deference."

Celeborn stared at her with a sober expression, then touched her wild hair affectionately. "Galadriel and I wish for you to come and visit with us when it is your time to return to Caras Galadhon. Your presence brings us joy." He kissed the top of her head. "Be well, child."

With heartfelt tears in her eyes, she whispered, "Thank you, my lord," then left swiftly to prepare for her departure.

 

* * *

 

~o~


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update! Happy Friday. :)

 

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Rúmil had agreed to meet Ahrhî by the same city gate where she had originally entered Caras Galadhon nearly three months prior. She found it difficult to believe that so much could change in such a brief amount of time, but here she was, trained by elves and on her way to protect the borders of Lothlórien. She shook off her thoughts and smiled at the handsome elf that stood waiting for her.

They were both attired in brown leggings, and the gray tunics and cloaks worn by Lórien guardians. She had also been supplied with her own pair of brown boots made of the softest leather. Wearing the same attire as the elves made her feel she was a part of something important, and knowing they trusted her enough to be a protector caused a lump to rise in her throat.

"Are you prepared, Ahrhî?"

She felt eager to be in the woods again, well nigh impatient to be off. "Yes, Rúmil, let us depart. Too long have I stayed in one place. I wish to run again."

He grinned at her excitement, and took her hand, pulling her out of the city and onto the wooded path.

"Then let us fly, and see if you can keep up!" With that, he released her hand and began to run, and she laughingly followed.

They ran from the time the first pale blush of dawn stained the sky, until the last fingers of sunset beckoned the night. They stopped only once, briefly, to rest and take sustenance.

To her amazement, they had already reached the crossing for the Celebrant, and though she was tired, she did not experience the complete exhaustion she would have before receiving her training. An elf jumped down from a tree to greet them.

"Well met, Rúmil, it is good to see you once more. This is the new addition we were told to expect?"

"Greetings, Rínon. Yes, this is Ahrhî. I am taking her to Haldir, so we must cross."

Rínon turned to her and bowed. "It is good to have you among us, Ahrhî."

She pushed back her hood and smiled at him, and the light of recognition entered his eyes.

"My thanks, Rínon, I am pleased to be of use."

"Ah, yes, I have heard of you from Varno." He gestured across the river to the elf standing on the other side, and she thought it looked to be the elf who had been present the day she had crossed with Haldir. "He told me of your unique method of bridge making. I assume you will not need the rope, then?"

Rúmil looked at her curiously. "Of what bridge does he speak?"

She looked mildly embarrassed by the turn of the conversation. "One of ice. It was either that or be carried by Haldir again like an infant. Perhaps this time I should attempt the rope, if you will hold my hand, Rúmil, to steady me."

He was shaking his head and grinning. "Nay, Ahrhî, I would much prefer to cross by your method."

She looked at him and shrugged, more than willing to comply, now that she was able to accomplish the task without difficulty. "Of course we can, if you wish it."

She walked to the edge of the river, admiring the way the emerging starlight shone on the rippling surface, and the large trees seemed to stand as sentries. Extending her hand, she watched as the water began to rise into an arc spanning the two sides, then hardened to ice. She had made it wider and larger than her first, shaky attempt. She turned to Rúmil and gestured to the bridge with a flourish, but he insisted she go first.

"After you, dear lady. Should it crack under your weight, I must linger behind for the purpose of being able to rescue you."

She sighed and crossed, then turned to look at him accusingly after he joined her. "Your confidence in my abilities overwhelms me, truly."

Rúmil had turned to look back at the ice path they had just walked, a considering gleam in his eyes. "Perhaps you should be posted here permanently for the purpose of bridge-making. Would that not be a novelty, Haldir?"

Ahrhî looked at Rúmil in confusion, when she felt the warmth of a familiar touch on her shoulder, and the deep pleasing sound of his voice that caressed the ear and made her shiver in pleasure.

"Nay Rúmil, I think only mischief would come of it. She will remain with us for the time being."

She turned to face Haldir, her heart pounding with sudden elation at seeing him again. His hair shimmered in the starlight, and he examined her critically before giving her an approving nod.

"You look well, _Naurwen_. I believe Lórien garb suits you."

She drew a breath to combat the sudden lightheadedness that assailed her. The picture of him in her memory was nothing like the sharp reality of the flesh and blood being standing before her, exuding undeniable strength and power. The flash of attraction and longing she experienced was almost painful in its intensity.

"Haldir! I did not know you were so close by."

He began walking through the trees, and she and Rúmil followed.

"Did you not? I felt you draw near."

She raised a quizzical brow. "How so? You could not have heard us, surely?"

He glanced at her, then back in the direction they were walking. "Elves are able to sense many things," he said, but did not elaborate further.

Haldir stopped and turned his attention to his brother. "Rúmil, you are to go and patrol with Orophin. I will take Ahrhî with me, and we shall meet you at the talan ere long."

"As you say, brother. I still have yet to collect on the wine Orophin owes me." He smiled at Ahrhî in a cheeky manner, but Haldir looked at him sternly.

"Keep your wits about you, Rúmil. There has been an even greater increase in orc activity of late."

He shrugged. "Spare no concern for me, Haldir, I am ever on my guard." He turned and walked away, humming softly to himself.

Ahrhî was watching Haldir the entire time. Indeed, it seemed she could hardly take her eyes from him. When he looked at her with a knowing gleam in his eyes, she realized he was fully aware of her regard, and dropped her gaze self-consciously. They began walking again, in a more westerly direction.

"You must have fared well in your lessons, as you have arrived in a more timely manner than I had anticipated."

She bristled at his words, feeling insulted that he should imply it would take her a great deal of time to learn something. Did he think her an addlepated idiot? Yet, recalling her pledge to Lord Celeborn, she contained her ire and sought a civil reply.

"I had excellent teachers. Only the truly hopeless would not rapidly improve under such superior instruction."

He smiled, amused by her struggle to reign in her temper. "I look forward to observing your improved sword skills."

Remembering all the underhanded moves she now had in her repertoire, she smiled a rather nasty smile. "I shall be happy to accommodate you, Marchwarden, at your earliest convenience."

They came to a very tall tree, and Haldir began to climb, and Ahrhî followed. Close to the top, there was a small lookout platform, cleverly hidden among the thick branches. He stepped onto it and reached back to pull her up beside him.

"You climb quite well, _Naurwen_. I believe I begin to see more of the elf in you over time."

She licked at her lower lip and looked out at the view of the land before them.

"Men are quite able to climb as well, you know, and I daresay hobbits and dwarves if forced to it, and perhaps with a bit of assistance."

He scoffed. "Dwarves! What know you of their kind?"

She looked at him, surprised by the fierce scowl on his face. "Why, I have known many dwarves in my lifetime. I have found them to be somewhat gruff upon first acquaintance, but also quite merry and kind. All races come to Bree…except, perhaps elves."

He crossed his arms and carefully scanned the distant horizon, making thorough use of his excellent vision.

"Elves as well, though not often. I have been there many times myself in years past, to hear news of other lands."

She leaned against the tree and chewed her thumb absently while she looked at him, then laughed softly at her own silent musings. He raised his brows in question.

"It is difficult to imagine you there, but I believe I have the picture in my mind now. Care to hear my assertion?"

Curious, but maintaining his impassive expression, he nodded slightly. "Proceed."

She suppressed a smile. "You would wear your hood and cloak at all possible times to hide your elven glow. The wenches, especially, would most likely fear you, yet also ardently desire your attention, unable to resist being drawn to you." She took the slight quirk of his mouth as confirmation, and continued.

"Though you may have stayed at an inn, you would not have taken your rest there, but rather waited until the quiet of night when others slept, and all was still. Only then would you have sought the welcoming and familiar embrace of the trees. In the northeast corner of Bree, there is a copse of trees. The perfect place for an elf."

He tilted his head. "You know those trees?"

She shot him an exasperated look. "Of course, Haldir. I spent much time in my childhood and as a grown woman in their loving arms. There was one in particular…"

"The large oak, far in the back, but closest to the hedge," he interrupted.

She grinned in delight. "The very one! But how were you able to guess the exact tree I was referring to?"

"It is the eldest tree in Bree." He smiled knowingly. "I find you to have a particular rapport with aged beings."

She blushed, although she could not say why. She turned to the side and rested her hand against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes in memory. "I felt I could almost hear her whispering her gentle comfort to me. Especially when I felt particularly sad or alone."

"She?" he questioned, feeling a warmth at their shared affinity.

"I always thought that tree had a feminine essence. Rather maternal, I should say." She pushed away the bittersweet memories, and looked at him expectantly. "And so? Was I at all correct?"

He smiled ruefully. "On the whole. Although, the wenches were a good deal more persistent than you gave them credit for. Avoiding them took much effort."

She laughed, delighted by their connection to a place she had spent so much time in. "You did not decide to take them up on such offers and play the part of the rake, leaving them sighing after you?"

"They would be spoiled for men if ever touched by an elf. In any case, such women have never held any attraction for me," he said, a look of distaste on his face.

Though she knew he referred to the common tavern girls, and that she herself was not truly a daughter of men and should not take it so personally, she could not prevent the sharp prick to her heart his words caused. A weak smile wavered on her lips. "Of course," she said quietly.

The wind blew suddenly, and she shivered in the cool night and wrapped her arms around her middle to ward off the chill. Haldir moved closer to her and lifted her chin to force her to look at him.

" _Naurwen_ ," he chided gently, "I did not mean you. Are you yet blind to the truth that I find you beautiful?"

Her lips parted in amazement, and she stared at him wide-eyed. "Beautiful! You find _me_ beautiful? Most assuredly you jest." She was too incredulous to say anything more. He smiled tenderly and caressed her hair.

"Is it truly so difficult for you to believe that I am as drawn to you as you are to me? There are many kinds of beauty- the physical body, the vibrancy of the _fëa_ ; there is beauty in the determination and courage a person may possess, and also in the kindness they show to others. I see all that, and more in you."

Profoundly touched by his words, her eyes welled with tears and a single one spilled over. Haldir ran a finger down her cheek, touching the wetness that proclaimed how deeply his words moved her. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion.

"Even your sorrow is lovely in its poignancy, for it shows how great are your feelings and how tender your heart."

She smiled tremulously, and stepped toward him. He met her lips with his own, longing to feel her mouth move against him once more, but was careful to keep the kiss gentle and light. All too soon, it was time to climb down and depart.

* * *

When Ahrhî returned from her brief visit to the stream, Orophin was climbing up to the talan where the four of them were to rest. She followed along behind him but was decidedly slower, considering she was carrying her boots instead of wearing them. When she at last reached the top and climbed over the edge, Orophin, Rúmil, and Haldir were all observing her.

Orophin broke the silence. "Why did you climb without wearing your boots?"

She limped over to where Rúmil had stowed her pack, and dropped her boots beside it.

"Though I greatly enjoyed running today, it seems my feet are a bit out of practice. I soaked them in the cool water of the stream, and could not bear to put the boots back on afterward. I also seem to have a small blister." She sat down and inspected the bottom of her right foot, pressing lightly on the puffy sore.

"It was her idea to run the entire way, Haldir. Truly, she was like a giddy child. I had to indulge her."

Ahrhî looked up to see Rúmil shrug under the black look of his eldest brother. Haldir walked across the talan and sat in front of her.

"Let me see," he said, reaching for her foot to examine it.

"It is nothing," she protested. "Just a result of the softness of life in the city."

He glanced at her face while he pressed on the raw spot and she winced.

"It is not nothing. You will have unnecessary pain on the morrow and be of little use if it is not properly tended now."

"Oh, very well. Have it your way; you always do," she muttered under her breath. Haldir looked up at her sharply, and she turned away with a defeated sigh.

Orophin smiled at her and Rúmil snickered, then came and extended a cup to her. "Wine, Ahrhî? I think it is a pleasant night for song, do not you?"

She scoffed at him and pushed it away. "Are all brothers so cruel as you, Rúmil? I think perhaps I should exchange you for Orophin. I wager he has a kinder heart." She smiled brightly at Orophin who grinned at her.

"Do not be fooled by his smooth demeanor. He possesses the heart of a trickster, but is simply more discreet about it."

Orophin leaned his hip against a branch, crossed his arms and smiled. "A malicious falsehood, Ahrhî. Do not believe his slander."

They traded several creative insults back and forth, before beginning to tell stories on each other to prove which of them was the worst scoundrel. She laughed, delighted by their banter. Each brother was so different, but each of them so very likeable. Well, when you got past Haldir's sternness, of course. She glanced at him where he still rubbed her foot, and found he was watching her with a small smile on his face.

"Lie back. Lean against your pack," he instructed her.

"To what purpose?"

He pushed against a particularly tender spot and she flinched, her muscles tensing. He sighed, and slowed his movement.

"Must you question everything? You are like a curious child. If you lie back you will be less tense and more relaxed, and my touch will be more effective. Also, you are likely to enjoy it more."

She blinked and laid back, secretly pleased that he seemed to want to give her pleasure with his touch as much as remove her pain. She closed her eyes when she felt the wonderful liquid rush of his healing heat against her blister, and the ache faded. He switched to her other foot and she sighed, feeling very relaxed.

It was an odd thing, but it seemed terribly intimate to have him touching her feet. She could almost imagine they were alone, and his touch was for other reasons. She smiled at the highly inappropriate image in her mind, unaware Haldir was paying great attention to the play of expressions across her face, as well as listening to the small sounds of satisfaction she was making in response to the massage.

He pushed deeply into the most painful spot of soreness on her left foot, causing an exquisite burst of pleasure-pain to assail her, and she moaned his name loudly.

The sudden lack of conversation, combined with the cessation of Haldir's movement broke through her pleasurable daze, and she opened her eyes to discover she was the object of scrutiny of all three elves.

"What is it? Did I disturb you? I am sorry if I was over-loud, but Haldir just touched this certain spot…"

Orophin and Rúmil burst into laughter, and even Haldir was fighting a grin, though he seemed to be hiding it well behind the fall of his hair, but he resumed the rubbing of her foot.

"By all means, Ahrhî, feel free to continue moaning my brother's name if you wish, but may I suggest that you seek a more private location for such activity? Most especially if it involves the _touching of certain spots._ "

"Rúmil, cease." Haldir said disapprovingly, no longer amused.

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Ahrhî snatched one of her boots and launched it at Rúmil, hitting him in the chest. He caught it and smirked at her, and she glared at him for a moment until the humor of the situation overwhelmed her and she ended up laughing helplessly.

"Rúmil," she said as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes, "you are a very bad elf. For shame!"

He laughed and drained the wine from his glass. Haldir gave her foot a final squeeze then released her, but her curious mind was pondering. She folded her legs beneath her comfortably.

"So.." she began uncertainly, but ultimately decided it would be best to just ask. "does this mean that elves also make such noises when…if they are... um, engaged in...uh…" Losing her nerve, she chewed her lip and glanced quickly at Orophin who was shaking with laughter, but it was Haldir who answered.

"Yes. In that way, I suspect elves and men are very alike."

She nodded, her curiosity satisfied, but Rúmil was studying her with a speculative look.

"How is it, little sister, that you have knowledge of 'such noises', as you put it? Please share where you obtained this information."

"It is certainly not from any personal experience, as you well know!" She exclaimed.

"You know this then from eavesdropping on others, I take it."

She fidgeted with the ring around her finger. "Not intentionally. When I was twelve years of age, we were passing through a small village during the summertime. We slept outside, as usual, but we were close to a cottage, and the windows were thrown open against the heat. I awoke to a strange noise. I thought someone was crying at first- a woman, but she got much louder."

She glanced at Haldir, but he was standing with his back to her, looking out into the forest.

"Then a man also began to cry out. I was frightened. I woke my father, worried someone was being attacked, but he merely listened for a moment, then told me to go back to sleep. When I asked him if the man and woman were in pain, he said their cries were not for pain but pleasure. I did not understand at the time, but I listened to them for half the night, it seemed, before they quieted. The next day, I pestered Hathor about it until he explained it to me fully."

She laughed suddenly at the memory she had not thought of in a very long time. "He blushed and stammered as he had never done before. I will not forget it."

"Memories of parents are treasures that can never be lost," Orophin murmured, with a compassionate smile. She smiled back.

"Yes, I will always keep mine in my heart."

Rúmil walked over and dropped her boot beside her, then crouched down and ruffled her messy red curls.

"My sweet, innocent little sister." He slanted a glance at Haldir's back then looked at her and winked. "Mind you stay that way."

Having had her fill of his teasing for the night, she knocked him off balance then pounced on him in a surprise attack, mercilessly seeking his most ticklish spots under his arms and along his ribs. She had been forced to discover them in self defense during their weeks together in Caras Galadhon. He howled with laughter as she reached her goal.

* * *

Hours later, Rúmil was out patrolling, and Haldir sat near Ahrhî, watching her sleep. He was remembering the night he held her while she wept and rocked the trees in her grief. It gladdened his heart to see her resting so peacefully, smiling in a pleasant dream. He reached out and brushed her hair from her face, and she turned toward him and mumbled his name, then sighed. He stood and moved to the edge of the talan to avoid the temptation of touching her further.

Orophin came and stood beside him, looking up at the stars.

"You love her, brother."

Haldir was taken aback by Orophin's bluntness, but showed no outward sign of his surprise.

"I…care for her, yes."

Orophin turned to him with a broad smile, and clapped him on the back.

"I will love her as a sister, and gladly welcome her into the family. Rúmil has welcomed her already."

Haldir shook his head, and Orophin's smile turned to a puzzled frown.

"You misunderstand, Orophin. I do care for her, but I cannot pursue Ahrhî now, nor perhaps ever. There are many obstacles."

Ever practical, Orophin sought to help. "What obstacles, Haldir? Can they not be overcome? You are entitled to happiness, no matter the difficulty you perceive. Fight for it if need be!"

Haldir sighed and rubbed his forehead. "For one thing she is so very young. She does not yet have fifty years to her credit. She has also a wildness to her and greatly values her liberty. I do not think she would wish to be tied down, and surely not to someone of my temperament and disposition."

"Why do you not ask her what she wants," Orophin said quietly. "I feel certain she would say it is you. It is plain to see, with the way she looks at you."

Haldir crossed his arms. "You possess a certainty I do not. She knows nothing of love or romance or courtship. She had never kissed another before me. Likely she is infatuated, and her head turned by the excitement of new feelings, nothing more."

When Orophin would have interrupted, Haldir held up a hand to silence him and continued.

"Even should I declare love for her and she for me, I could not bond with her, so there is little point."

Orophin looked perplexed. "Why could you not bond with her?"

"These are evil times, and much darkness stirs in Middle-earth. Likely we will face many battles in days to come, and should I fall I would not take her with me. The loss of her father was almost more than she could bear. How much worse the loss of a bond-mate. Remember Naneth."

Orophin looked in his brother's eyes, and saw a rare glimpse of the pain he still carried from when their father had died in battle, and their mother soon after, from her grief.

"You have valid concerns, Haldir, but I do not think these problems are insurmountable. Yes, there is evil, but it is not new, nor will it likely ever be eradicated completely. I know it is your nature to be cautious, but do not let that steal your chance for joy."

Haldir clenched his jaw, and Orophin recognized his brother would not listen much longer. "I will say this last, then I will speak no more on it. If she is meant for you, and you for her, to deny it is to rob her of what she is intended to have- love, and a future happiness with you. Make no decision now if you think it best. It may be, in time, your path will be much clearer than it is now. Only do not discount this possibility that is open to you both. Were I offered the prospect of such love, I would eagerly seize it with both hands."

Orophin turned and left the talan, sighing as he descended. Haldir could be so obstinate when he made a decision. He only hoped his brother did not make the wrong one.

* * *

Fëa- Spirit

Naneth- Mother


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

Moving as quietly as possible, Ahrhî crept stealthily to the top of the talan. She filched Rúmil's last bottle of wine, then made good her escape. She wandered to a secluded spot deeper within the Golden Wood, where she could enjoy sulking alone. She had completed her patrol earlier with Rúmil, and had no further duties until the following day.

Eight weeks. Fifty-six days she had been in Haldir's constant presence, but other than the night of her arrival, they had spent no time on their own. He had not even touched her since the night of the foot massage. Well, apart from the day he had tested her sword skills. But having her arm twisted behind her back while he calmly admonished her never to lose her temper in a fight, could hardly be considered an affectionate embrace.

Her discontent had grown, along with the distance between them. It was baffling- he told her he found her beautiful and admirable and then, he actively avoided her. He was polite and cool, and although they were often together, they were never alone so that she could question him about his strange behavior.

Ahrhî's throat burned as she swallowed great gulps of wine, and she shuddered at the strength of the potent drink. Her skin was hot and itchy, her clothes felt restrictive, and she had the irrational urge to scream herself hoarse, so long had she held her feelings in check. She belched loudly, then giggled at the sound. Looking at the tree she was leaning against, she patted it fondly.

"Will you join me in a drink, Sir Tree? Please, I insist. Let us fall as deeply into our cups as we may."

She poured a bit of wine on the trunk, then nodded. Sitting, she removed her boots, immediately followed by her tunic. More comfortable clad only in her light undershirt and leggings, she leaned against the tree and drank. When more than half the bottle was empty, she began to feel more light-hearted, and started singing.

"She lay all naked in her bed,

And I myself lay by;

No veil but curtains about her spread,

No covering but I:

Her head upon her shoulders seeks

To hang in careless wise,

And full of blushes was her cheeks,

And of wishes were her eyes.

~o~

"Her blood still fresh into her face,

As on a message came,

To say that in another place

It meant another game;

Her cherry lip moist, plump, and fair,

Millions of kisses crown,

Which ripe and uncropped dangle there,

And weigh the branches down.

~o~

"Her breasts, that welled so plump and high

Bred pleasant pain in me,

For all the world I do defy

The like felicity;

Her thighs and belly, soft and fair,

To me were only shown:

To have seen such meat, and not to have eat,

Would have angered any stone.

~o~

"Her knees lay upward gently bent,

And all lay hollow under,

As if on easy terms, they meant

To fall unforced asunder;

Just so the Cyprian Queen did lie,

Expecting in her bower;

When too long stay had kept the boy

Beyond his promised hour.

~o~

"'Dull clown,' quoth she, 'why dost delay

such proffered bliss to take?

Canst thou find out no other way

Similitudes to make?'

Mad with delight I, thundering

Throw my arms about her,

But pox upon't 'twas but a dream.

And so I lay without her."

When she ended her song, she was quite pleased with her state of drunkenness, but continued taking small sips of the strong libation. Her vision swam when she turned her head, and she stood to her feet experimentally. She swayed and was forced to take several small steps in an attempt to recover her balance. Leaning once more against the obliging tree, Ahrhî giggled uncontrollably, never before having become so heavily inebriated, and tickled by all the completely unfamiliar sensations. When she had quieted again a heavy sigh broke the silence.

"Alas _Naurwen_ , what am I to do with you?" Haldir was standing just to her right, and she swiveled her head to look at him. "Rúmil informed me that you had absconded with the last of his wine, and judging by that…song," he winced painfully, "I would guess you have already drunk more than was prudent."

She smiled broadly, and took a step toward him. "Haldir! How happy I am to see you, the most wonderful and handsome of elves!" She stumbled forward and he caught her before she could fall. She giggled and leaned her forehead to rest against his chest and inhaled deeply.

"I do not think I could ever tire of your scent. You smell of forest and sunshine, and of a spice on your skin that is uniquely yours." She looked up to see an amused quirk to his lips.

"You sound as though you have given the matter much thought."

"And so I have. You often occupy my thoughts, and I ruminate over all your mesmerizing aspects in the privacy of my mind." She tilted her head and grinned, wagging her finger at him in emphasis. "but that is a secret you must never know." She lifted the bottle to her lips to drink and he frowned in disapproval.

"I believe you have had more than enough wine, Ahrhî. You will make yourself ill." He removed the bottle from her grasp, and she reached, attempting to recover it, but he only held it higher, beyond her reach, then set it on the ground behind him. She shrugged and took the opportunity to sway forward, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest again. She smiled up at him coyly.

"That wine was enchanted, for it accomplished what I could not."

He pushed a lock of her disheveled hair behind her ear, then rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Unlikely an enchantment would cause you to lose all reserve, and sing bawdy songs in the middle of the wood. You have your inebriated condition to thank for that."

She threw her head back and laughed, the green of her eyes sparkling in her merriment. Haldir was bemused to discover that even while intoxicated, she held just as much attraction for him as ever.

Ahrhî freely ran her hands up and down his back as she had been longing to. "Do not speak nonsense," she said. "I meant that it brought you to me." At this her expression turned sad as she looked at him. "It pains me that you have avoided being alone with me. Do you not know my feelings for you?"

Haldir's eyebrows rose in surprise. When he determined to come and save her from any drunken foolishness, he had certainly not anticipated such a conversation. Something stirred hungrily inside of him. Though it felt wrong to take advantage of her state, he wanted to hear what she would say, and the forced distance he had kept between them had worn away at his will and caused him to suffer in ways he would never admit to.

"I do not know your feelings, Ahrhî. How would I know when you have never spoken of them?"

She stroked the strong line of his jaw, then drew her fingers across his lips. "My heart yearns for you," she said earnestly. "My body aches for you. My mind is consumed with thoughts of you, and my sleep with dreams of you. I love you, Haldir! Even your stubbornness and sternness are dear to me, though they do vex me at times." Muzzily, she searched his face for any response, but his visage seemed frozen in stone, even when he spoke.

"Are you quite certain it is truly love you feel? You are so young and little experienced in these matters."

She scowled. "I am not a _child_ , and cease tormenting me over my age, it is unimportant! Do not insult me by insinuating I do not know my own heart and mind."

She clenched her jaw, and turned from him, stumbling a few steps before his arms surrounded her from behind, trapping her back against his chest. Her head spinning with wine and painful emotions, she twisted fruitlessly.

"Unhand me."

Haldir sighed, but did not loosen his grip. "Be still, and hear what I have to say." She stopped struggling and closed her eyes, forcing away tears at his perceived rejection.

"How can I regard your words with the serious consideration they deserve, when I suspect it may be the wine speaking? It would be best to discuss such things when you are not so affected."

She inhaled sharply and stiffened. "I am myself, and I know what I have said. The drink only gave me the boldness to speak it. It is clear you do not return my feelings, I see that now. It was my own foolish mistake to speak so openly to you. Forget what I said and I will never again harangue you on the subject."

She broke from his grasp and weaved her way back to the wine. She sat down and drank greedily from the bottle. He regarded her for a moment, then sat beside her and took the bottle from her again. She began to protest, but then he put the bottle to his lips and drank deeply, finally draining the last of it. She watched in surprise, never having seen Haldir behave so.

"One should never drink alone," he said with a faint smile, then looked at her intently, his blue eyes boring into her piercingly. "You are mistaken, you know."

She shrugged, trying to hide away the pain in her heart with a saccharine smile. "Yes, I frequently am. What about this time?"

"My feelings for you." He touched her cheek gently, then ran his thumb across her lips, emulating her previous caress. "I do care for you, much more than you realize. Perhaps we can speak more fully about it on the morrow when your mind is clear, if you care to."

Ahrhî nodded slowly in stunned silence, her heart drumming madly with fresh hope. Haldir leaned toward her until their faces were almost touching. "For now," he breathed, "I would like to kiss you, if I may?"

"Yes," she whispered, immediately welcoming the silken warmth of his lips against hers, and desperate to be close to him. When she moved away from his mouth to scatter a rain of kisses across his cheek she was pleased to discover she was sitting atop him, straddling his lap.

"Was this my idea, or yours, Haldir?" She nibbled across his neck until she reached his ear, then ran her tongue along the delicate edge. He groaned aloud.

"You took the initiative, but as you can see, I offered no protest."

Ahrhî rubbed herself against him with sinuous movements, her hands fumbling against his tunic in a search for skin. At last her fingers achieved their goal. She moaned into his mouth as she touched his taut abdomen and skimmed her fingers across the firm muscles of his chest. She traced one of his nipples in fascination. He caught her hands and drew them out of his tunic.

"Perhaps we had best stop now, before we do something we are likely to regret."

"No," she said petulantly, and used all her weight to push him onto his back so she could lay on him fully. He instantly rolled her beneath him, and pinned her hands down to prevent further wandering on her part.

"Have I not warned you to take care with your actions lest you find yourself the victim of consequences? Even my control has its limits, _Naurwen_. It is folly to test ourselves this way."

She scoffed and attempted to free her hands, then smiled wickedly and wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer. "Away with your control, Haldir, I do not want it! Give me your passion, for that is what I crave."

His nostrils flared when he inhaled sharply, his desire warring against his more rational side, but the naked longing on her face tortured him. With a muttered oath he released her hands and lowered himself into the cradle of her hips, seeking her lips with his own. She ran silken strands of his hair through her fingers, then tugged desperately at his tunic, and he laughed.

"I see I do not need to direct your hands from my hair, for you have already discovered a more effective use for them." He sat up long enough to discard sword, cloak, and tunic.

Ahrhî sighed and reached out with a trembling hand to touch the sculpted muscles of his chest and arms, now bared to her gaze. "I know not how to describe you, but I think you should never wear another tunic."

He laughed quietly and pulled her close, kissing her even more ardently than before, and she clutched at him desperately. "Please," she whispered.

"Please what, dear one?" He asked between kisses. "Tell me what it is you desire of me."

She dug her nails into his back. "I want you to touch me. Everywhere."

Blue eyes that could look as cold as ice now burned with fiery intensity, and stared into her eyes with equal hunger. He left her mouth to trail kisses across her neck while his hands rucked up the thin fabric of the under tunic she wore. He lightly skimmed the bare skin of her belly causing it to flutter in response to the heat of his hand, then moved his caress steadily higher, at last reaching the softness of her breasts. She gasped and moaned as he fully cupped one breast and teased the nipple with his fingers, while he bent to take the other into his mouth, slowly circling it with his tongue.

"Haldir, please, I _ache_ for you." She moved her hips restlessly and reached out to touch his hard arousal where it was pressed against her, knowing somehow that it was the cure for what ailed her. Her fingers barely brushed him before he stopped her and moved her hand away, looking seriously at her and shaking his head.

"Nay, Ahrhî, I cannot take your innocence. That is the one thing I will not do. There is a grave significance for elves in the joining of bodies, of which you are not yet aware."

She wanted to shout at him in frustration, and whimpered pleadingly and attempted to pull him closer. His eyes were full of a patient understanding born over centuries, as he gathered her to him and kissed her lips gently, his urge to satisfy and care for her greater than all else.

"I shan't take you fully, but I will ease you so the sharpness of your need will dim, if you only relax and trust me."

She looked at him in bewilderment, but nodded. "Of course I trust you, but how would you ease me if you do not take me?"

"I can give you pleasure with my touch. It will lessen the ache you feel now."

Ahrhî frowned. "But what of you, Haldir, will you not be left wanting? I would not have you dissatisfied."

He brushed her lips briefly with his, and his eyes seemed dark with the shadows. His voice was deep and earnest when he spoke again. "I will take my enjoyment in watching you."

With single-minded intensity, he began to kiss her again, touching and caressing her until she was nearly mad with desire and fully attuned to his every movement. Her sluggish mind barely registered his whispered instructions, but she found she was lifting her hips automatically so he could slide her loosened leggings down, then he was touching her where no other ever had. Dipping his fingers into the wet evidence of her desire, and skimming a place that sent shocks of pleasure through her entire body.

"You are smooth here, as are all elves," he murmured.

"You are surprised by this?"

"I never know what to expect where you are concerned. I must study you carefully to discover all your secrets."

She laughed aloud until he moved his finger in a circular motion, stealing her voice once more until an involuntary moan slipped from her parted lips. Uncertain at this new feeling and the intensity of sensation, she gripped his shoulder and looked to him for reassurance. He smiled and nodded slightly, his blue eyes intent on her face, watching her expressions.

"Trust me," he repeated. When he returned his mouth to her breasts, alternately using his lips to kiss her, his teeth to scrape and nip, and his tongue to lave, she could only moan helplessly and relinquish all control to him.

"Haldir… What is this I feel?" Her back arched while she rubbed her foot up and down restlessly against the cool grass, adding further to the assault on her senses. He moved across the smooth skin of her belly, trailing kisses to where her waist narrowed, nipping and sucking at the edge of her hip bone then laving the small love bite he left behind and adding to the heat of her skin with his breath.

"This is but the first of many pleasures I will teach you to crave from me, Ahrhî." The deep intensity of his voice affected her as much as his words and his touch.

Frissons of blissful sensation slowly consumed her as he continued to stroke her until it was all she knew. The gathering tension within her finally broke, cresting like a wave on the sea into ecstasy, where she felt she was soaring free into the night and the wind, with Haldir as her only anchor, punctuated by her loud, moaning cry and a brilliant flash of lightning that lit the darkened sky.

* * *

Orophin climbed down from the upper branches onto the talan, and went to join his younger brother. Rúmil was employed with the twisting and weaving of vines he had gathered, and kept his eyes focused on his task.

"Haldir has not yet returned?" Orophin asked.

Rúmil glanced at his brother and smirked. "Nay, nor is he likely to unless I miss my guess."

Orophin rested his forearms on a low hanging branch and ran his tongue across his teeth in contemplation. "You have the look of schemes about you."

Rúmil raised his brows in mock innocence. "Scheme, me?" He continued to twist the vines into rope. "I did, perhaps, mention to Ahrhî that I had one last, fine bottle of wine, which was so useful in helping one forget their troubles." He tied the knot firmly, then began braiding the next portion, and interweaving different sections.

"When I found she had stolen away with my wine in hand, and looking rather sad at that, I felt it was only my duty to inform Haldir."

Orophin chuckled and Rúmil offered an answering smile. "I think you may be expecting a bit much from only one bottle of wine, Rúmil."

"Ah, but it is no ordinary wine. I added a particular little herb I had on hand."

Orophin frowned. "What herb? What have you done?"

"Not much, really. I added only a little ground _aníra_ root."

Crossing his arms, Orophin glared at his sibling. "You ought not to have meddled so. Who can say how Ahrhî may react? She is not as other elleth physically, and I am not entirely certain that employing that specific root is at all honorable."

Pulling the final knot tight with his teeth, Rúmil sat back to survey his work. "There is nothing dishonorable in a bit of useful trickery. The herb does little more than remove inhibitions."

"And?" Orophin prompted, lifting a brow.

Rúmil stood and walked past his brother and hung his creation between two branches, stretching it out.

"…And, it heightens desire, but only slightly. Believe me, I am intimately acquainted with its affects. Do not tell me that Ahrhî's mooning and Haldir's brooding have not begun to grow tedious to you as well, for I know they have."

"The matter is between them. It is not our place to interfere."

Rúmil scoffed. "Haldir's idea of handling the situation is to ignore it, which only wounds Ahrhî. Since he operates best under pressure, I have merely provided the kick in the backside he so desperately needs." Rúmil shrugged and climbed into his new hammock.

At that moment, a bright bolt of lightning lit the sky in a fantastic display of light.

Rúmil folded his hands behind his head and grinned in triumph. "I believe he has either pleased her or angered her, and either possibility would be a blessed change."

Orophin shook his head and sighed, his eyes turned skyward. "I only hope Haldir has the chance to return your kind favor someday, brother," he said ruefully.

* * *

Shifting Ahrhî slightly where she lay sprawled on him in sleep, Haldir drew his cloak over her nude form, to warm her as well as hide her nakedness, which continued to torment him. He was still painfully aroused, and looking at the graceful curve of her back sloping into the generous swell of her backside was a greater test to his will than he was prepared to meet, at present.

He was replaying the night over and over in his mind, and with the scent of her desire still on him, it was a special kind of torment and a challenge to think of anything else. He absently fingered the scar on her shoulder, then raised his hand to his face again to inhale the musky perfume that clung to him. Never had he been so drawn and seduced by smell alone. It called to something primal and feral within him; always hidden and repressed until now. That part of him wanted to possess and dominate, to claim the soft creature pressed to his bare chest as his own.

Sighing, he pulled her hair loose from the messy braid she kept it in and spread it out across her back, combing it with his fingers. It was an intimacy he had often wanted to indulge in, and now felt free to do so. Her loud cries of fulfillment still echoed in his mind, and he allowed himself a warm feeling of satisfaction as he recalled her look of rapture which he alone had brought her to. He only hoped there had been no one else close enough to hear, for it was not something he was prepared to share with others. The lightning display had been sign enough, and he made a mental note to investigate some way to prevent it in future. Privacy was essential to him in their intimate interactions.

Haldir buried his fingers in her hair, and stroked her brow with his thumb. She was his now. There would be no going back. Her confession of love had removed his final doubts, while her ardent and eager response to his touch sealed his resolve. They would speak openly of their feelings on the morrow. Orophin had been right in his advice. He would seize this unexpected joy fully, come what may. He closed his eyes and smiled, looking forward to bringing his plans to fruition.

* * *

Ahrhî's arm jerked as she drifted closer to wakefulness. Something was against her hair, and she slapped at it in annoyance. The rumbling noise from where her ear was pressed startled her, and her eyes flew open to look into the amused face of Haldir. Three things occurred to her in quick succession: she was wearing nothing, he was wearing little, and she was going to be sick.

She clutched the cloak she was half wrapped in and ran to the bushes, vomiting violently, over and over. When there was nothing left in her stomach, she backed a distance away from the mess, and lay with her cheek pressed to the cool grass, too overcome with faintness and shakiness to move further.

Haldir picked her up and carried her to a nearby stream and set her down, and she gratefully washed her face and rinsed her mouth of the sour taste. She stood on trembling limbs, but Haldir once again carried her back to where they had slept, and where their clothing lay strewn about.

She found his silence was most unnerving, as was her complete inability to recall how she had happened to remove all her raiment. She recalled drinking by the tree and singing, and then? Nothing.

He was watching her face carefully, and Ahrhî could only imagine that her complete terror at this unknown situation must be reflected there. Unable to think of another option, she screwed up her courage and asked a question.

"Haldir," her voice came out in a squeak, and she cleared her throat and tried again. "How did I come to be, ah...unclothed?"

He looked at her and his expression became blank and shuttered. "You do not remember what occurred," he stated.

She furrowed her brows, trying to force any memory at all to surface, but it was only indistinct images and confusion. The sky was just beginning to lighten with the coming of day, and she looked at him in frustration. "I remember some things, of course, but perhaps you could fill in the gaps for me." She looked at him hopefully.

"Tell me the last thing you can recall," he commanded.

She gave up any pretense and answered honestly. "The last I knew for certain was singing by the tree. Did we- lay together?" She was openly admiring the play of muscles in his arms and his naked torso, and cursing herself silently for missing what must have been one of the most important nights of her life.

He turned from her and retrieved his tunic, donning it with practiced motions. "Nay," he said quietly, "I am not without honor. Your maiden state is still intact."

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she felt sick again as she began to suspect what had happened. "I removed my clothing, then?"

He tilted his head and seemed to be considering. "Some of it. It was I who removed your leggings as well as your under tunic."

Her eyes widened at this, and she shifted his cloak slightly around her shoulders. "If we were not intimate, then what in Elbereth's name did we _do_?"

"I did not say we were not intimate, merely that you are still a maiden. The one does not preclude the other," he said, with hooded eyes.

She gaped at him open-mouthed, wondering what he had done with her naked that did not involve his taking her maidenhead. Ahrhî knew so little of such things beyond Haldir's few caresses, that she could not even imagine what might have occurred. She pinched her bottom lip in thought.

"Did you…enjoy it?" She asked, at last.

His eyes darkened. "Exceedingly."

She colored again under his intense gaze, then swallowed. "Did I?"

He smirked, and gave her a knowing look. "Based on the loudness of your response, I would say yes. Now, dress yourself." He turned his back to afford her privacy, and she walked to her clothes, grumbling.

"There seems little point in that, since you have already seen all of me. I find a great inequity in that too, as I have not looked on you without your leggings."

Haldir smiled faintly at the offended accusation in her voice. "Nevertheless, I will respect your modesty…for now," he added, quietly under his breath. His plans had been altered with her loss of memory, which he had already begun to suspect Rúmil somehow had a hand in. His younger brother's interference was far too marked to be otherwise. He would discover the truth of the matter and act accordingly.

"I am decent," Ahrhî called over her shoulder, already walking back toward the talan. Haldir fell into step with her, and they walked together in awkward silence, more on her part than his.

When they reached the outpost, there was an unfamiliar elf speaking with Orophin. She turned to climb the tree, but Orophin called her over. When she approached, the unknown elf spoke to her.

"Greetings, Lady Ahrhî. I am Calion. Lord Celeborn has sent me to retrieve you. He commands you to report to him at once."

She raised her eyebrows at his deferential form of address.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Calion. I will prepare to depart immediately. I thank you for bringing me the message."

"I am to accompany you as soon as you are ready."

"I will be but a moment," she said, and left to gather her things, and returned swiftly. Calion was chatting with Haldir, but Orophin was no longer present. She glanced at Haldir and he inclined his head to her.

"I will see you soon, Ahrhî. Calion, be well."

"Farewell, Haldir," Calion replied, but Ahrhî only nodded, and they began the long walk back to Caras Galadhon.

* * *

 

**Song lyrics from: She Lay All Naked, author unknown**

**Aníra: Sindarin for desire; to desire**

 

* * *

 

~o~


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

Calion proved to be a pleasant elf, but it did not take long for his endless chatter to cause Ahrhî to long for silence. As one of Celeborn's guards, he was privy to many things. He regaled her with stories and histories it would have taken another person with a less rapid tongue, many days to relate.

The lingering effects of her ill-advised night of drinking muddled her mind and stole her ability to pay attention, relegating Calion's monologue to background noise. She managed to nod and smile in the appropriate places, but a more involved response was beyond her. Fortunately, he did not seem to notice her distraction, or, he was at least kind enough to pretend ignorance if he did.

Why could she not remember the previous night? She reached a hand out to touch a golden leaf as they continued walking, when a rather explicit image flashed through her mind of Haldir touching her intimately. She gasped involuntarily, and Calion looked back at her in sympathy.

"Yes, the tale of Lord Amroth and Lady Nimrodel is sad indeed. I take it you have never heard it before?"

She relaxed, grateful for the excuse for her outburst. "No, indeed, I have not. I did not mean to interrupt, pray continue."

He smiled and resumed speaking full bore, and she fell back to her musings. If her other memories were even half as shocking as the one she now clearly recalled, how was she ever to face Haldir again?

* * *

Ahrhî paced impatiently across Lord Celeborn's study. After having passed a restless night filled with images she both blushed at and was aroused to recall, in addition to the small discoloration she had found very low on her hip where she remembered Haldir had marked her, she was more than eager to discover the reason for her summons.

Skimming her fingers across the thick tomes lining the sturdy shelves, she chose a random volume. She leafed idly through a few pages, then stopped and gaped at what was clearly a book depicting various positions for sexual intimacy between elves.

"Blessed Valar…" she murmured.

She glanced guiltily at the door before turning the page, too overcome by curiosity for caution. Ahrhî was so engrossed by the image she was scrutinizing, turning it from side to side, trying to figure out how such a thing might be managed, that she did not hear the door open. At the sound of a throat clearing she froze, then slowly turned her head to see Celeborn fighting a smile.

"Lord Celeborn! Forgive me…I, I…" She fumbled with the book attempting to close it, and instead dropped it on the floor. By the time she had it stowed back on the shelf, she was silently cursing her fair complexion for the fire in her cheeks which were burning like a beacon.

He chuckled in amusement, then beckoned her to come and be seated on the divan near him. Choosing silence as the better part of valor, she took her seat, then folded her hands in her lap. He scrutinized her for a moment before speaking.

"How has your time been at the fences, Ahrhî, are you well?"

"Oh yes, my lord, I'm very well indeed," she answered quickly.

He smiled, and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Haldir has not been too harsh in his treatment of you, I trust?"

She dropped her gaze in discomfort, refusing to allow her mind to recall exactly how well she had enjoyed Haldir's most recent treatment, and managed to force a small smile. "I was given patrolling duties with Rúmil, for the most part. Orc activity has certainly increased, but they will not venture into the forest, so my time was rather quiet at the border. I have not neglected my training in the interim, my lord."

His eyes took on a far-off look. "Orc activity will continue to increase, I fear. Much uncertainty must be braved in the days to come." He focused on her once more, and Ahrhî was struck that eyes that could look so commanding and formidable, could also gaze on her with kindness.

"I am sure you are wondering why I have summoned you," Celeborn said.

"I will admit to some curiosity. Do you have other duties you wish for me to perform here?"

Celeborn stood and went to his desk to retrieve some papers, then sat on the divan by Ahrhî.

"I called you here because I received a letter that contains news that concerns you. It is from Elrond, in Imladris. Perhaps you know of him?"

Ahrhî's brow furrowed in confusion at the turn in the conversation. "I have heard of him, of course." Her eyes clouded in memory. "I was in Imladris once, when I was quite small. He is a great healer, is he not, and the lord of that realm?"

Celeborn nodded. "He is, indeed. I will speak plainly to you now, Ahrhî." He reached out and took one of her hands in his own. "The man you know as father lives. Hathor lives."

She sucked in an astonished breath. "He… _lives_? How is that possible? I…I saw the blood. So much blood," she whispered. Ahrhî blinked furiously, trying to force away the gathering tears.

Celeborn squeezed her hand gently. "He was gravely injured when the orcs took him captive. But he was not long in their power before he was discovered by the sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. They slew the orcs that held him, and took Hathor to their father. He was just alive, having lost a great deal of blood, as you noted. Elrond tended his wounds, and although his recovery has been slow, he is mostly well again."

Ahrhî smiled and wiped her eyes. "I can scarce believe it. My father lives! I thought him gone from me forever."

Releasing her hand, Celeborn leaned back against the cushion. "When he was well enough, he began making inquiries as to your whereabouts, and was greatly distressed to learn you had left Bree on your own, and had not been seen since."

She clapped a hand against her forehead and made to rise. "I must go to him. He must not be left to fear for me!"

Celeborn gripped her shoulder and urged her to sit again. "All is well, Ahrhî. I had spoken of you in my correspondence with Elrond, and he has since related all that befell you to Hathor. If he were able, he would have traveled here already."

She exhaled and let the joy of this unexpected blessing wash over her.

Celeborn pulled a sealed letter from among the small sheaf of papers he held. "This letter for you was enclosed in the most recent communication I received from Elrond. Perhaps you would wish to read it on your own. You may do so here, if you like. I have other business to attend this morning, elsewhere."

Ahrhî held the letter to her breast like a rare treasure and smiled radiantly. "My lord, you are too kind to me. If it is truly no imposition, I will remain here for a short while longer."

He rose and nodded. "I will leave you now, but I hope you will join Galadriel and myself for a visit later today. I will send word."

"Thank you, Lord Celeborn, I look forward to it." After the door closed, Ahrhî broke the seal of the letter with shaking hands and eagerly read the words written there.

_**My dearest girl,** _

_**I cannot express my great relief at learning you are safe within the borders of Lothlórien. I feared greatly for you when Strider told me of his meeting with you, for when he returned to Bree, he discovered you had left on your own. He did attempt to track you, but the rains did their work and obscured the path you had taken.** _

_**It is enough for me that you are alive and well, but I think you will admit your actions were both foolish and rash. When next I see you, I hope you are prepared for both a hearty hug AND a sound scolding, for you will receive both in equal measure.** _

_**Lord Elrond tells me that you have been told of your elven heritage, and that you now know your family history. I cannot say the news of your origins surprised me, for I knew you were special from our first meeting. I suppose it was selfish of me to keep you to myself all these years, but I could not give up the joy you brought me, nor forsake my vow to your mother. I hope you will be able to forgive me this.** _

_**It is my intention to come to you there as soon as I am able, but it may be some time yet before I can make the journey. Lord Elrond has taken wondrous care of me, and I am sure I will be myself again ere long. Do try to keep out of trouble as much as you are able, Firebrand. Until we are together again, you will be ever in my heart and thoughts.** _

_**Hathor** _

Ahrhî read the letter half a dozen times, committing the entire thing to memory. She was so happy, she didn't know if she would ever be able to wipe the grin from her face. She couldn't wait to tell Haldir.

 _Haldir._ The smile slipped a bit as another memory chose that exact second to resurface.

_I told him I loved him._

She swallowed and wondered at her own boldness, then pushed the memories away deliberately. Now was not the time. Her fingers traced across the edge of the parchment, a soft smile on her face as she refolded the letter.

Looking across the room, she narrowed her eyes in consideration before pushing to her feet and walking to the bookcase. With a glance over her shoulder, she snatched the book off the shelf she had been perusing earlier, before stealing silently out of Celeborn's study.

He had never minded her borrowing from his library, and a good book always provided an agreeable distraction.

* * *

Haldir went through the motions of his duties following Ahrhî's departure, frequently sending narrow-eyed glares at Rúmil, but his roguish younger brother affected a countenance of complete innocence.

It irked him, as he was certain his younger sibling had meddled in his affairs, but he wasn't yet certain how to proceed. It was possible he might even need to _thank_ Rúmil, and that was galling enough to cause him to ignore the entire incident, for the present.

He spent much time in thought, recalling all that had happened with Ahrhî, and planned several different courses of action for when they were reunited. His hunger for her grew apace, and his only certainty was that he intended to claim her. The details yet to be worked out were exactly where and when.

Haldir stepped onto the talan and walked to where the water-skins were kept, opening one and drinking deep. Orophin tensed beside him, eyes focused on the treeline ahead, and Haldir turned, instantly alert.

"Someone approaches, brother." Orophin narrowed his eyes, but the tension soon drained from his shoulders. He grinned at Haldir. "They are elves," he said, and quickly made his way to the forest floor.

Haldir frowned after confirming it for himself and followed his brother. Rúmil came running up, looking unusually serious.

"Do you recognize them, Haldir?"

"No, but I do not know every elf in Middle-earth, Rúmil, nor should you expect me to. Let us go and meet them."

The three brothers moved silently through the trees while the riders drew near.

* * *

A loud banging slowly filtered into Ahrhî's consciousness. Struggling up from the undignified sprawl where she had fallen asleep across the bed, she rubbed her eyes and called out.

"Just a moment, please!"

She grabbed the borrowed book and looked wildly around the room, finally stashing it under her cloak on a chair, while on her way to answer the door.

"Yes? I… Haldir!" He was standing in front of her, looking stern and breathtakingly handsome, as always.

" _Naurwen_ ," he murmured, taking a step closer to her.

With all the explicit images of the things they had done together fresh in her mind, and her afternoon of _reading_ , but what really ended up being a scrutinization of graphic sketches, Ahrhî felt a pool of heat in her face and deep inside of her at his unexpected appearance. She shifted, her hand tightening on the door handle unconsciously.

"Ah,… I- did not expect to see you so soon."

He examined her face, a slight smile quirking one side of his mouth as he reached out to smooth her wayward locks of hair, which were sticking to and fro from where she had slept on them. She reached up to brush the worst of it into place.

His hand fell away, coming to rest at his side. "There are visitors from afar that have come to Caras Galadhon, and I escorted them to the Lord and Lady." He observed her high color and obvious discomfort at his arrival with mild disappointment. "If you wish me to leave, I shall."

Her eyes widened and her hand shot out, fingers closing around the hardened muscles of his arm. "No! I want you to come inside." Tugging on him, she pulled him into her talan and closed the door, the tension between them nearly palpable. She searched her mind for something to say, when she suddenly remembered.

"Haldir, I almost forgot to tell you why I was summoned." Ahrhî rushed back to her bed and retrieved the letter, brandishing it happily. "Hathor lives! He is alive and safe, and recovering in Imladris!"

She laughed in pure joy, while Haldir betrayed more surprise than she had ever seen on his face, his mouth quickly curling into a smile. He pulled her against him, wrapping her tightly in his embrace.

"I am very happy for you, _Naurwen_ , truly." His lips grazed her temple while her fingers stole across his shoulders. She tipped her head back to look at him, and it was the most natural thing for him to dip his head and press her parted lips against his own.

He felt her sigh pass into him, her breath as his own, the urgent tattoo of her beating heart against his chest. His blood surged hotly in his veins, the need to bury himself in her heat and softness nigh overwhelming, only growing stronger when she slipped her fingertips under his clothing to stroke the bare skin of his back.

Breaking the kiss, he drew in a breath and gathered the tattered shards of his control, leading her over to a chair, intending to sit her down and have the honest discussion that was long overdue.

He picked up her cloak and then the book underneath. It was only after he had opened the book to where she had marked it that Ahrhî realized, too late, what she had hidden there.

Moaning in embarrassment, she covered her face with her hands, and didn't see the predatory smile on his face when he looked at her. He grasped her wrists and gently pried her hands open, brushing a soft kiss against each blushing cheek.

"Is it safe for me to assume you have recovered your memories of our night in the wood?" He murmured.

She nodded, dropping her voice to a mere whisper when she responded, "Yes."

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "And you remember I said we would discuss my feelings for you when your mind was clear?"

"Yes, Haldir, I recall when you said that." She held her breath for what was to come.

His eyes roved across her face, much of his sternness melting into a rare look of tenderness.

"Ahrhî," he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "My beautiful _Naurwen_ , I-"

A pounding knock sounded at the door and she jerked in surprise, cursing the timing of whoever it was. She held up a finger to Haldir, who looked equally put out by the interruption.

"Just….ah…hold that thought, please."

She ran to the door and ripped it open, ready to snarl at whoever was on the other side, when she was nearly tackled in an eager hug by Rúmil. He pulled back and held her by the shoulders, searching her face.

"Well?" he questioned. "Are you excited?"

She stared at him blankly, trying to fathom his meaning when Haldir cleared his throat from behind her.

"I was soon to inform her, before you so rudely interrupted, Rúmil."

She looked back and forth between the brothers, who seemed to exchange a cryptic look. Making a noise of impatience in the back of her throat, she glared at Rúmil.

"By the Valar! Would you just tell me whatever secret you carry?"

He grinned. "Your mother's brother, Artaril, has just arrived with a company of warriors from Mithlond, Ahrhî, and he is eager to greet you. Lady Galadriel sent me to hurry your arrival."

The blood drained from her face and her mouth opened in surprise. Her voice so quiet it was barely more than a whisper of sound.

"My… _what_?"

 

* * *

 

~o~


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

When she was a young child, Ahrhî used to indulge in small flights of fancy from time to time. Since her family was a complete unknown to her, she would sometimes imagine she was the daughter of a king and queen from some distant land, who were longing for her return. Other times, she would imagine a more humble family with many sons and daughters who fell on hard times and unable to feed her, were forced to give her away. Occasionally, she even considered that she might have a wizened grandparent like some of the children in Bree, who would dotingly watch over their children's children.

Nothing she had ever dreamed up as a little girl could have prepared her for the flesh and blood _elf_ she caught sight of as she made her way into the garden of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. When she saw a tall, striking looking ellon among those standing near the lord and lady, she came to a complete standstill. Though his back was to her, he had long, deep red hair that fell straight and nearly to his waist, in the rich, vibrant color of autumn leaves. Surely this must be the kin whom she belonged to?

Haldir's warm hand on her shoulder offered his silent support and some of the tension lacing her muscles drained away at his touch. It seemed as though time slowed as the elf she was watching so intently turned to look at her. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as he stared at her, his countenance very handsome to behold; strong jaw, full lips and pleasingly pronounced cheekbones. Her feet began to move of their own accord until she stood before him.

Taking her face between both hands, he examined her for a long moment, his sharp blue eyes missing nothing. "Ahrhî," he breathed, his deep voice heavy with an emotion she could not name. Suddenly, she was pulled forward and into his arms while he embraced her.

Smiling, she wrapped her arms around him and inhaled, his distantly familiar scent triggering something from long ago, and she was immediately assaulted by a sense memory. Jerking back so she could see his face, she looked at him in shock. "You! …you used to throw me up in the air!"

His delighted laughter joined the voices of the other elves in the garden as he pulled her close once more and kissed the crown of her head. "You do remember me after all. I did not think you would, you were so very little when last…well." He broke off and cleared his throat, leading her to a bench and seating himself beside her, his eyes continually returning to her face as though to reassure himself that she was real.

Addressing himself to Celeborn and Galadriel, he spoke earnestly, "My parents wish me to express their heartfelt gratitude. Nothing can describe their joy at learning that Ahrhî was alive and well, and safely within your keeping."

Celeborn gestured to his Marchwarden. "All credit must go to Haldir and the elves he commands. It was they who came to Ahrhî's aid and vanquished the orcs. We have been richer for having her here among us," he said, smiling fondly.

Artaril looked toward the stern, silver-haired elf, who stood with his arms crossed. "I am most grateful for any assistance rendered for the protection of my sister's child. Doubly so, as she is now all that remains of Nauriel and Rilien."

Haldir bowed his head in acknowledgement, but it was Rúmil standing next to him who spoke. "It was our pleasure to come to the aid of a fair elleth, although at the time, we neither knew that she was fair nor an elleth."

Chuckling, Artaril watched as Ahrhî narrowed her eyes at the elf who spoke and reached out his hand to brush her hair back, exposing the small, round ear. "The females of my family are different in appearance to other elleth, to be sure. A reminder of a unique heritage. Yet they are no less beautiful for it."

Startled, Ahrhî turned to look at her uncle and saw the love he had for his family shining clearly in his eyes as he looked at her. It was strange to know that there were folk who loved her that she didn't even know. Wondrous strange. She was reveling in the feeling until Rúmil spoke again.

"Indeed. I have had to appoint myself as a brother to her, and warn away unwanted suitors," he quipped, winking at Ahrhî.

Artaril's brows rose in astonishment. "She is, of course, far too young for any such consideration. The very idea is wholly ridiculous."

Observing twin frowns from both Haldir and Ahrhî at her uncle's emphatic words, Celeborn raised his hand to rest over his mouth, covering a knowing smile.

Galadriel rose and gestured to tables filled with refreshments, which had been prepared in the shade. "Please help yourselves to food and drink, and places of rest have been made ready for your company, Artaril. On the morrow, we shall have a feast to celebrate the reuniting of kin."

* * *

Wandering in the cool of the evening, Rúmil was drawn to the practice grounds where he heard the unmistakable thunk of arrows hitting their target. Coming around the tall hedge which separated the training area from the garden, he was surprised to find Haldir firing arrow after arrow into a target that was nearly full.

He leaned against the trunk of a tree and watched his elder sibling. With his face like a mask of stone, he ignored Rúmil and fired off another arrow. "I believe your enemy is quite vanquished by now, brother." Taking careful aim, Haldir released his last arrow which landed dead center.

Raising a brow, Haldir glanced to the side. "Was there something you needed, Rúmil?" They walked together to the target for Haldir to retrieve his arrows.

"Not particularly. I went to see Ahrhî earlier and she was foul-tempered and petulant. I was just curious to see if your mood still mirrors hers, and I can see that it does."

Haldir scowled and turned to walk back. Rúmil shook his head and gave a resigned two-fingered wave. "Good night, Haldir."

* * *

Haldir knocked quietly on the door and waited, wondering if she had already retired for the night, as the hour was quite late. He was just turning to leave when the door parted a crack, before opening fully.

"Haldir? Come in." She took his hand and tugged him inside, before shutting the door quickly. The room was dark.

"Did I wake you? Rúmil mentioned you were upset when he spoke to you earlier and I thought to check that all was well."

Walking back to the sitting area, she sank onto the cushioned bench with a sigh and he joined her. "No, I was not sleeping. I was just sitting here…thinking," she said dully.

He pushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear so he could see her face more clearly. "About?" he prompted.

"Family. Apparently my uncle imagines that he is my keeper and should plan my life for me for the next century, at least." Her expression darkened further. "Not only does he seem to think I am an idiot, but that I am also a mewling infant in need of someone to change my small-clothes!"

Haldir hid a smile, amused by the imagery her words presented. "Did you inform him that you are your own keeper, and mostly capable of making your own decisions?"

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "No, I could scarcely get a word in edgewise, and what do you mean, _mostly capable_?"

He raised an amused brow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Occasionally, you require a different perspective to steer you toward wise choices. Face your back to me."

Surprised, she turned as he instructed and sighed in relief when he began to knead the knots of tension from her shoulders, neck and back. She began to relax back against him while he continued the soothing massage. She was all but asleep, feeling completely boneless, when he lifted her and carried her into her bedroom and placed her gently under the blankets.

He kissed her forehead and whispered good night to her but she took his hand to stop him.

"Haldir, will you be near me tomorrow night at the feast?"

"Of course," he said quietly, "if you wish me to be."

She smiled as her eyes drifted closed, her whispered "thank you," the last words she spoke before drifting off.

He stood silently for a time, just watching her sleep, grudgingly admitting to himself that once again, he was actually grateful for Rúmil's meddling.

* * *

Ahrhî stood near her uncle, scanning all the elves and feeling nearly lost in the sea of beauty of both males and females. It was strange to think she belonged at such a gathering, but she was herself attired in a gown of richest velvet the color of sapphires, complete with intricate embroidery and beading. The silken underskirt flowed around her like water, while the bodice was tightly fitted and accentuated the smallness of her waist and her much fuller breasts when compared to most female elves. Her hair had been left down, but was artfully twined with matching ribbons and tiny crystals that sparkled with reflected light.

She was fully dressed, yet she had never felt more vulnerably bared or on display in her life. She was not used to anyone looking at her as though she were no more than an ornament. An unknown male elf had even given her a very heated and interested look that made her feel more like a meal waiting to be devoured, than a person. Every time she caught such a look it made her flustered and angry, as she wanted it from no elf who wasn't Haldir.

Glancing over, she admired her handsome uncle, similarly attired to her in the richest blue velvet, the cut of his tunic much longer than Lórien elves but undeniably masculine. He had brought all manner of gowns, jewels and finery for her to wear; sent as a gift from her family, but she had no idea when she would ever wear such clothes. It frightened her to think of what the expectations of her family might be for her. To sit around plucking a harp, trussed up like a pretty but useless thing? Orc killing would surely not be on their list of acceptable activities for her to engage in.

Tossing her head, her irritation increased when the ornaments in her hair tugged on the strands, pulling them. She let out an aggravated breath, wondering how much longer she would be expected to stay before propriety was satisfied and escape would be possible.

Glancing up, she was relieved to finally see Haldir making his way to them. He bowed to Artaril before turning to Ahrhî, lifting her hand and kissing it before leaning close so he could be heard over the music and conversation around them.

"Ahrhî, may I persuade you to dance with me?"

"Yes!" She shouted eagerly.

She tugged him through the crowds until they were beyond her uncle's view and on the edge of all of the swaying dancers, before she turned to him.

"I apologize, as I do not really know how to dance, but I thought you might not mind rescuing me for a time, regardless."

He pulled her into his arms. "Nonsense. You don't need to know how to dance, only how to let me guide your movements with my own, which I daresay you do effortlessly now."

She blushed as he spun her onto the floor, wondering if there was some double meaning to his words. As they wove their way easily to and fro among the other couples, she had to admit that he was correct that she needed no prior knowledge for Haldir to show her off to great advantage. Their bodies moved as one, her own responding to the lightest pressure of his hand on her waist and the subtle twist of his hips; the movement of his leg against her as he easily guided her steps.

It amused her to look around them and see that they were actually one of the more graceful twosomes, and she smiled up at Haldir in delight, genuinely enjoying herself for the first time all evening, thanks to him.

"You are ravishing tonight, _Naurwen_ , although I sense you do not find this pleasing. You are uncomfortable with so much unbridled male attention."

She raised a brow, her chin lifted stubbornly. "Well…. Yes. I do not like being looked at as though I were something tasty to be devoured. It is both demeaning and discomforting."

He laughed, the sound rich and full and making her smile despite everything. "I fear this is something you must accustom yourself to. Not every male is willing or able to guard his expressions nor temper his hungry looks for the comfort of a female he desires."

Pausing, he gave her a familiar smirk. "However, for your sake, I will venture no comment as to how enticingly alluring or desirable I find you in such a gown, and how much I may truly wish to devour you. In addition, I shall keep my own gaze placidly mild. Would this please you?"

"Nay, Haldir," she said in exasperation, certain he already knew how much she welcomed, indeed, craved his desire for her, none of her comments about unwelcome attention aimed at him, but uncertain how to put her longing for him into words. What happened between them during their night in the woods were memories she constantly dwelt on of late. The appetites he once warned her of heated her blood, moreso when he held her close, as he did then.

"You...you know that I...how I enjoy...when you…." she ended in a growl of frustration which soon turned to a gasp of surprise. For a fleeting moment, his calm gaze sharpened with a slight narrowing of his eyes which reflected back the strong hunger in hers, and he brought their bodies more firmly together, making her aware of the hardened evidence of his desire, which he briefly allowed her to feel.

She blinked and the moment passed, his expression once again nothing more than polite interest but with an edge of amusement in the blue depths of his eyes. He no longer held her as close, and expertly prevented her from pressing herself against him again, when she attempted to confirm that she had really felt what she thought she had.

"You're absolutely _maddening_ ," she muttered, disappointed when he spun her away from him and bowed, the dance finished.

"Am I?" He murmured. When the next, much slower piece began to play before she had fully risen from her deep curtsy to him, he pulled her into the warm circle of his arms and swayed with her gently to the music, causing her to sigh contentedly and lay her head against his chest, happily losing herself to the steady beat of his heart.

* * *

The musicians continued to play and elves twirled and danced in their finery. The night was well gone, and the Lord and Lady had already retired for the evening. Her uncle had kept a sharp and watchful eye on her all night, and she chafed to finally make good her escape.

Not even the sight of Haldir dressed so handsomely, or the way his eyes smoldered when he looked at her in her gown had made the evening a success. The three dances she had shared with him, and their playful and flirtatious conversation had been the only highlight. But her uncle had ruined it by declaring she must dance with other elves besides Haldir, and like a spineless fool, she had opened her mouth in dismay but ultimately said nothing to contradict.

Haldir stared at her for a long moment, possibly waiting to hear if she would gainsay her uncle, then left soon after with a disgruntled look on his face. Resentment and restlessness bubbled inside of her. She had to get away from all this! When her uncle was distracted and talking with a pretty elleth, she saw her chance and slipped behind a large, flowering bush and then down the stairway.

Her feet moved swiftly until she was back to her talan, but it wasn't enough to satisfy her, oh no, not nearly enough. She went to the small clothing cupboard in the bedroom and removed the rich blue gown she had been wearing and pulled out her ranger clothing. She debated for a moment before donning her warden attire for the fences, a plan already forming.

Packing up the rest of what she would need, she cinched her old pack tightly closed and set it aside before sitting down to the desk in the sitting area and quickly writing two notes. One was for her uncle to explain why she felt such an urgent need to depart…she frowned, thinking uncharitably that she could well understand why her mother would run away from her brother… The other for the Lord and Lady, to thank them for everything and to ask their pardon for her abrupt manner of departure.

She paused, thinking forlornly of Haldir and how angry he would be to find her gone. Undoubtedly he would be the one to discover it first, so she took a fresh sheet of parchment and tried to think of what she could possibly say to him to explain…

**_Dear Haldir,_ **

**_…Please forgive me._ **

**_Ahrhî_ **

Disgusted by the pathetic attempt, she put her hand out to crumple the note, but then chose to leave it, deciding something was probably better than nothing.

With pack in hand, she cracked open the door and heard only silence beyond. Slipping into the night, it was as though her feet grew wings, and it was not long before the beautiful city of Caras Galadhon was far behind her.

* * *

Watched from the safety of a tree, Ahrhî clenched her fist in frustration. She had easily made it over the border in the area where she knew there was only a light patrol, but there were too many orcs beyond to escape notice by all of them.

In her haste to get beyond the bulk of them when some gave chase, she had managed to drop her pack and would have risked her life trying to stop and retrieve it. There was no choice now but to press on with nothing but the weapons she wore and the clothes on her back.

When it was safe, she climbed down and crept further on, not stopping for any rest until she was certain the area was relatively free of orcs. She intended to spend the hours of dark up trees when orcs were on the prowl, and cover as much ground as she could in the daylight, now that she was beyond Lothlórien.

She suffered a long agony of doubt about what she had done in haste from her disgruntlement of the night before, but thought there would be little sense in turning back now, although the thought of Haldir's displeasure gave her a sick feeling. Beyond that, there was also no denying the thrill that being back in the wild brought to her. With determination stiffening her spine, she turned toward Imladris.

* * *

Ahrhî sighed as she crouched at the edge of the river, vigorously scrubbing her tunic against a rock. Her plans to avoid orc entanglements were mostly successful, but not entirely.

The odious black blood of the orc that had freely bled across her clothing ran in dark rivulets over the rocky shore. The smell of death and rot was lessening, but still enough to cause her to breathe through her mouth.

She wished again that she had not foolishly dropped her pack so far back, but it was too late for regrets now that she was getting closer to Moria. Finally finished with both tunic and under blouse, she lay them against a rock to dry in the warm light of day. With a quick glance around her, she removed her leggings and dipped them in the cool water, shivering at the pleasant warmth of the early spring day against her bare skin.

Her task complete, she waded into the bracing water, happy as the last trace of orc filth washed away. Shaking her hair to remove some of the water, she spread her cloak across the grass, wishing she could risk a small fire yet not foolish enough to dare. She lay down and allowed the caress of the wind and bright rays of daylight to dry her, intending to rest for only a few moments. The heat beating down on her skin relaxed her, and before she knew it, she had tugged her cloak around her like a blanket, exhaustion taking her and sending her drifting into a light dream.

It was full of orcs; grunting, squealing, and taunting her in guttural tones. So vivid was the dream, she could even smell them. She only came fully awake as she rolled and reached for her sword on instinct alone, the blade that she had set beside her now grasped tightly in her hand, a blast of flame spouting from the other, ready to be thrown.

Springing to her feet, she looked around in shock, straight into the red eyes of one of the hated things, her heart plunging into her stomach as she belatedly remembered her nude state, his eyes raking her body. It was very rare for them to be out in broad daylight, so much so that it had made her careless, but perhaps it was not entirely unheard of, as her luck would have it.

"Well boys, we got us a woman all ready for the taking. She even removed 'er clothes for us!" He cackled loudly, amused by his own words. "I do love fresh meat, and this one does look good enough to eat."

The raucous laughter of the other orcs joined with their leader, before the shortest one in the back spoke up.

"She can fill our bellies after we have a bit of fun with her, Rikluk."

Ahrhî's lip curled in disgust at the thought of orc hands touching her, and she pushed the image out of her mind, letting her hate and anger fill her. Distantly, she wondered again how these orcs could be here threatening her so brazenly in the light of day, as she seldom saw any such thing. Glancing up, she realized the bright day had given way to dark clouds, heavy with the threat of rain.

"You will not lay a finger on me, you foul beasts from the pit," she said, her voice low.

"You dogs can have your turn with her after I cut out her tongue. I'll not listen to her squawking," the leader growled.

He brought his sword up, the movement overconfident and sloppy, stepping forward to put his full weight into the attack. She threw the fireball in his face and dodged quickly to the side and crouched, her blade finding purchase in his unprotected belly, and she grunted with effort as she ran him through.

When she whirled, ready to face the next one, the remaining orcs lay on the ground, arrows of the Galadhrim protruding from their bodies. She looked up in surprise to her right, just in time to see Haldir mere feet away, striding purposefully toward her, his expression grim, with the banked fire of a cold anger lighting his eyes.

She cast her gaze to the ground at her feet, relieved to see him, but too upset and flustered by the unexpected battle and its very abrupt end. Residual adrenaline was still coursing freely through her veins, keeping at bay the full weight of embarrassment she would otherwise feel at her bizarre predicament. Also, still somewhat muzzy from sleep, she had barely blinked before he was wrapping a crimson cloak around her that he lifted from his own shoulders, and pulling the two sides together over her breasts.

She stabbed her sword into the soft earth since she was obviously not wearing her belt with sheathe, and clutched the cloak closed with a fist. The rapid thudding of her heart calmed slightly while she took in his appearance, the first thought flitting through her mind and immediately spilling out of her mouth.

"Why do you wear such armor?" she asked in confusion, noting with admiration the silver and golden ribs that comprised the battle gear. Instead of the ringed mail she was more familiar with, he wore a hauberk of scales. She had not imagined it possible for him to appear even _more_ masculine and attractive than before, yet it was so. Likely he would still take her breath away were he attired in rags.

He gave her a hard look, his lips thinned with displeasure before he yanked her suddenly against him and kissed her thoroughly. His lips were soft against her own, despite the severity of his expression and the apparent tension in the lines of his face and in the way he moved.

He soon broke the kiss and lifted his head, the fury she could feel emanating from him having lessened only slightly, making her swallow anxiously, a finger of fear licking through her. Ahrhî had never seen Haldir truly enraged, and she hoped she never would again. The force of the emotion directed at her was truly terrifying. She drew a shuddering breath, warily meeting his eyes.

"It is the custom to don _more_ layers of protective raiment or armor before facing enemies, not less," he said sharply. "I presume this rather singular battle tactic you have employed was a distraction technique? If so, I daresay it works on friend and foe alike." At this, he turned slightly, drawing her attention to the large group of elven warriors also in armor, now visible amidst the trees. Many were smiling in amusement, and a few seemed to be laughing outright.

She groaned, reaching up and placing her free hand across her eyes in an attempt to block out the mortifying truth: she had been observed while fighting the orc without her clothing.

"By the Valar! Must the shame of my mistakes always have witnesses? I was washing my clothes..." she muttered under her breath, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Haldir raised a brow and walked to one of the elves under his command before quickly returning, dropping her pack at her feet. "Get dressed. We have further to travel this day before we stop to rest."

Ahrhî frowned and batted loose strands of hair from her eyes with her free hand. "I cannot return to Lórien, Haldir. I must go to my father."

A muscle tightened in his jaw, and his voice was low and harsh. "If you had taken time to reflect, and speak with the Lord and Lady about your desires, you would know that is not our purpose. Instead, you rush headlong with little more than a hastily scrawled note. Is that how you would treat the people who care for you, Ahrhî? Your _friends?_ You disappoint me; I had thought better of you."

He crossed his arms and stared at her sternly, and she swallowed, her throat thick with guilt and her heart stinging at his sharp words, unable to summon the power of speech to her defense. The emphasis he placed on the word friends was not lost on her, for surely they had become so much more to each other than that.

He waited for her to speak, but when she could think of no defense for her actions, she stared at him forlornly with a sheen of tears clouding her sight, trying to convey with her eyes the contrition and regret she could not easily put into words. At length, he exhaled, his expression softening slightly.

"Prepare yourself. We make for Imladris." He turned to walk back to the tree line where all the other elves were clustered together, talking quietly.

"Haldir…" she called softly. He paused and turned back to her. She dropped her eyes to his chest plate, still timid before the intensity of his gaze, but wanting to understand his actions. "Why did you kiss me just now, with so many watching?"

He walked back to her and grasped her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet the firm resolve in his. "After what you have just displayed for so many to see, I want it to be very clear to all watching that you belong to me, and no other."

Her eyes widened at his words and he gave her a small smile, the steely blue of his eyes melting from cold anger into a look of sensual heat as his thumb brushed against her bottom lip. "Had I a choice, I would take you this very instant and complete what we began at the fences, if only to have you safe in my keeping, but now is neither the time nor the place."

Memories of what he spoke of filled her mind and she looked up at him with such naked longing and desire that Haldir was forced to close his eyes and draw a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he fought for mastery over his emotions. After exhaling, he lowered his head until his forehead rested against hers. "Do not tempt me by looking at me so, _Naurwen_. Of late, my control is much less certain where you are concerned."

He turned and walked briskly away from her and she bent and picked up her pack, her mind whirling with sensual thoughts and tangled emotions as she found a private area to dress.

* * *

They traveled swiftly for the remainder of the day, and only stopped to make camp when the last light was fading from the sky. Haldir had scarcely spoken to her, and she still didn't understand why they were going with her to Imladris.

Only after most of the elves were settling for the night and the watches had begun was she finally able to catch Haldir alone.

"May we speak?"

He glanced back at the camp, then gestured her forward, deeper into the trees where they might have some privacy. After some ten minutes of walking silently, she asked what was foremost on her mind.

"Did Artaril read the note I left for him? Did he understand?" Ahrhî bit her lip, the guilt she had pushed away during her flight now coming back to plague her.

Crossing his arms, Haldir leaned against a tree and regarded her. "He did read it. He had every intention of chasing you down and bringing you back to Lórien with great haste. It was only through Lady Galadriel's considerable persuasion that it was decided that I would command a company to overtake you and accompany you the remainder of the way to Imladris, where your uncle will join you after you have had a chance to ease your mind where Hathor is concerned."

She released a breath and nodded. "Yes. I cannot rest until I see Hathor with my own eyes and know him to be well. I also do not know if I can be the person Artaril and his parents expect me to be. He wants power to decide things for me, but I cannot bear to be caged or chained to the will of people I scarcely know, to say nothing of their expectations."

Haldir narrowed his eyes, his disapproval evident. "Why did you not say these things to him? Why not speak to him as plainly as you just have to me, instead of slinking away in the dark like a surly child? You cannot always run away from the things you fear to face, you know this," he said vehemently.

She looked down, tears clogging her throat and vision. "Forgive me, Haldir. I know how keenly I disappoint you. I cannot seem to stop from becoming the worst version of myself. I know I can be weak and selfish, but always I seem to stumble awkwardly about when faced with crisis, as though alone in the dark."

"Do not wallow in self-pity, Ahrhî, it accomplishes nothing. Determine what you would change, and set about to do it," he said crisply.

Reaching up, she hurriedly wiped the tears from her face and nodded, her eyes still downcast in shame. "Yes, Marchwarden." She turned away, trying to gather the remnants of her composure when she heard him sigh and found herself suddenly pulled into his arms, her head pressed against his armored chest while his hand tangled in her hair.

"And above all, confide in me. How may I lend you my council and strength, and be your place of refuge if you will not trust me? If you would but give yourself to me, as I have wished for you to, you will never again be alone in this world. Why do you continue to run from me," he asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

She looked up at him, astonished by what he was admitting to her. "But Haldir, I have longed to be yours, you know I have! How could you not know? I have no wish to run from you, but I feared you could never love me as I love you."

Haldir cradled her face between his hands and examined her expression intently in the starlight. "I do love you, _Naurwen_ , with a profound depth and hunger that mayhap frighten you, were you to know the full truth of it. I believe you bewitched me with the enchanting fire of your spirit from the moment our eyes first met. I was drawn to you, even when I thought you mortal." He tilted his head, his eyes grave. "Is this truly how you feel, then? You would be mine and consent to bind yourself to me?"

Ahrhî smiled radiantly. "Yes, and happily so. You have taken my heart captive with your fierce ways and there can be no other but you, Haldir. Surely you feel the truth of my words."

He closed his eyes briefly, while an elated smile unlike any she had ever seen lit his face. He kissed her lips tenderly, almost reverently before pulling back. "You have filled my heart with more joy in this moment than I ever thought to know, Ahrhî. Thank you for this precious gift of your love."

She pulled his head down for another kiss, this one more urgent than any before, her breathing ragged when he moved away from her lips to kiss a path down her throat.

"Haldir?" She shuddered, never wanting him to stop.

"Hmm?"

"How much longer do we have to wait until we can join? I don't want to wait any longer than we must, now that we know it is what we both want. Please?" At the pleading tone in her voice he drew back to meet her gaze, her green eyes bright with passion and hope.

"Among elves, a year is the traditional period of time between betrothal and marriage."

She gasped, her excitement dropping like a stone at the prospect of such a lengthy engagement, her expression crushed as she lowered her gaze. He touched her cheek, causing her to meet his eyes again while he studied her.

"Are you so very eager to give yourself to me?" He teased, smiling.

Frowning, she tried to see beyond his beguiling smile and discern what he was really feeling. "Would you have me speak an untruth?" She asked earnestly. "I want to be with you more than I want my next breath."

His smile faded and she saw the same longing and love that she felt, reflected in the depths of his blue eyes. He caressed a lock of her hair and his expression slowly sharpened to a firm resolve.

"We do not need to wait a year, as I have no wish to either. As I told you before, I would have already taken you for my own, were it possible. I am not compelled by tradition, but by what will secure your happiness."

He swiftly considered and discarded several possibilities in his mind before lighting on the most practical. "Perhaps...when we reach Imladris. I could speak to Lord Elrond and make arrangements. There is a place of seclusion there for just such a purpose. Would this be acceptable to you?"

She nodded, suddenly feeling a little shy and uncertain. "Will the other elves observe us or be present when we wed?"

Haldir grinned before he tilted his head back and laughed heartily. She frowned and then pushed at his armored chest in a sudden angry burst. He captured her hand and raised it to his lips and kissed her fingertips, still smiling in tender amusement. "Do you truly know nothing of how elves marry?" He asked curiously.

Ahrhî shook her head. "No. I have only observed marriages between men and women in Bree, and some on farm holdings. Is it really so very different?"

He stroked the wild curls back from her forehead and nodded. "Yes, I daresay it will be quite different for us. It is something intensely private and intimate for elves which takes place only between the bonded pair, and the level or strength of the bond is also something that varies between couples. There are some who are much as they were before, able to be apart from their mate for long periods of time with no ill effects; then there are others who can no longer tolerate being separate over any great distance, experiencing intense suffering and even physical pain from being divided so from their other half."

"Oh, I see," she breathed, trying to reconcile what she knew about marriage to include this very different way of things. "Which do you think we will be like?"

Again, he ran his fingers through her vibrant locks, unable to stop himself. He already suspected it would be more like the latter than the former for them both, but he was reluctant to frighten her before it was certain.

"Nothing can be known before the bond is formed. Do not worry yourself. I know all that must be done to accomplish such a joining. Let it be a surprise for you until then if you like; I will instruct you in all you need know when it is time." He placed a lingering kiss on her hand again and began to lead her back toward the camp.

"Very well, Haldir. I will hope that time will pass swiftly until then and my curiosity does not get the better of me."

He pulled her close again, his hand sliding against her backside to press her intimately against him, causing her to gasp. "If you are too curious and impatient to wait, I could give you some preliminary instruction." He raised his eyebrow in challenge, his thumb unerringly stroking across a nipple through her clothing.

She clutched his shoulders and moaned, her head falling back, already aware of a deep ache inside from his earlier kisses. "You are a cruel elf to tempt and tease me so. Why do you do it?"

He moved her hand to briefly brush against the hard length of him through his breeches. " _That_ is what you do to me just by looking at me. Do not think you are the only one who aches from want."

Touching him seemed to make her all the more miserable and she took hold of his chest armor and shook it in frustration. "Would that I were strong enough to throw you down here and have my way with you. Then we would see how much you would tease me!"

He chuckled and took her hand again while she tried to calm her breathing. "Would you really attempt to ravish me among the grasses, _Naurwen_?"

"Well…." she looked at him sheepishly. "I suppose not…I mean, unless you wished me to….I.." She stopped when she saw his smirk. "You steal my mind when you touch me so," she muttered.

"You need not fear." He swatted her gently on the bottom, surprising her with his playful familiarity. "I can think well enough for both of us."

She glared at him, annoyed by his words, then sighed in exasperation, speeding her steps and beating him back to camp. She curled up on her bedroll miserably, thoroughly frustrated and disgruntled with Haldir, but still managed to dream about the arrogant elf anyway.

* * *

The days of travel passed, sometimes slowly when Ahrhî was in a fever of excited anticipation, and sometimes far too quickly when she worried about the unknowns of her future and turned herself into a bundle of nervous dread.

And all the while, she felt Haldir's eyes on her. She loved it when he allowed her to catch him looking at her, and delighted in all the emotions she saw there, now that he no longer concealed them from her. It was like food for her spirit to gaze into the fathomless blue of his eyes, and when they had not had time to commune in such a way, it was as though she were starving for it. Like lungs that burned for a breath and he was the very air that filled them.

There were many times when she wished Haldir's brothers had accompanied him because of how much she missed them both, and also to take her mind off of things and give her someone familiar to talk with; but she did selfishly enjoy having so much of Haldir's attention focused on her when he was not busy with his duties. There was certainly no doubt among the elves under his command that she was his intended, and they treated her with the same respect they accorded him.

When the beautiful valley finally came into sight, she was enthralled. It was so much more lovely than she remembered it being when she had been there as a child.

Many Rivendell elves came out of the finely crafted buildings to welcome their kin from Lothlórien. Ahrhî had difficulty seeing over the heads of all the elves, and angled herself further to the side of the milling crowd trying to see, when she felt a light touch on her shoulder.

A tall, very striking dark-haired elf introduced himself as Lindir and informed her that Lord Elrond wished to greet her. She looked around for Haldir, but couldn't catch sight of him in the throng. "Thank you, Lindir, I am pleased to meet you. Please lead on."

He smiled and inclined his head, moving to guide her through a maze of corridors and up staircases until they arrived in a large room, bookcases lining every wall. He bowed her into the room and shut the door quietly as he took his leave.

She strolled further into the room where she saw Haldir talking with the elf she knew instantly was the same one who looked at her so piercingly as a child. He looked up now and smiled, and Haldir turned toward her.

Haldir took her hand and led her into the room. "Lord Elrond, may I present Ahrhî Elnaur, who I spoke of previously."

Lord Elrond came forward and took her hands in his, looking at her searchingly before smiling kindly. "Be welcome here among us, Ahrhî. I saw you on your first visit to Imladris when you were but a small child, but it is unlikely you would remember."

She smiled, put at ease by his kind manner. "I remember it very well, my lord. I was rather intimidated by your direct gaze and went and hid behind Hathor's horse."

He laughed softly and released her hands. "I was intrigued by you. I took you for a Dúnedain child, and thought that likely the reason for the distinctly elven traits I could feel in you. Now it all makes sense, of course. You come from a unique line of elves and have a heritage to be proud of."

"Thank you," she said, deeply moved by his words.

"May I offer you both refreshment?" He gestured to a side table with food and drink.

Haldir poured a goblet of wine for each of them, and they sat on the comfortable chairs that Lord Elrond indicated.

"You had a mostly uneventful journey, I understand?"

Haldir nodded and placed his goblet of wine on the low table nearby. "We saw but little orc activity on the path we came, which is somewhat surprising, considering the increase of their kind on our borders."

Elrond stroked his chin thoughtfully. "They typically flow in waves. Since it has been several months since the last rumblings, I expect news of renewed aggression at any time."

She sat listening to them speak for some time, twisting her fingers together over and over, wondering how much longer she must wait until she could ask about her father without being rude. Haldir looked at her and smiled, reaching out to still her hands.

"Lord Elrond, before Ahrhî manages to tie her fingers in knots, may I inquire after Hathor, the Dúnedain ranger who has been under your healing care?"

"Of course," the elven lord said, smiling. "He is now fully recovered from his injuries and would be overjoyed to see you. Shall I take you to him?"

"Please," she breathed, more eager to see her father than she had ever been. The passageways and corridors passed in a blur this time while they followed Lord Elrond, and Ahrhî was grateful for the firm grip Haldir kept on her hand as they walked.

They passed through a final archway and into a garden practice area, where elves and some men sparred together and honed their sword and bow skills. She stopped walking, transfixed by the sight of Hathor, alive and well, and laughingly helping the man he had just bested to his feet.

He looked up and saw her just as she started to run to him. He met her halfway, catching her in a welcoming hug and spinning her around, as he used to when she was small. She inhaled the scent of him; pipe weed, leather and man. She was finally home. Laughing and crying both, she laid her head against his big chest and sighed.

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her back enough so he could examine her. He nodded, satisfied. "You are truly well. It does my heart good to see it." He looked beyond her and bowed his head. "Lord Elrond, thank you for bringing Ahrhî to me, it was my intention to ride to Lothlórien within the fortnight."

He looked down at her. "I should have known better than to think you would wait patiently for my arrival, as that has been something that was ever beyond you." She looked up sheepishly at Hathor, blushing when she caught Haldir's amused smile.

"Hathor, this is Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlórien. He led the company that escorted Ahrhî safely here," Lord Elrond said.

Hathor placed a hand to his heart and bowed his head respectfully to Haldir. "You have my gratitude, Marchwarden. There is nothing more precious to me than the well-being and safety of my daughter. I am in your debt."

Haldir inclined his head, a twinkle in his eyes. "Attempting to keep Ahrhî from running off into the wilds was a challenge, but one I soon grew quite adept at meeting."

Hathor's brows climbed in surprise and Lord Elrond chuckled before he and Haldir excused themselves to allow father and daughter time on their own.

* * *

Hathor stroked his beard thoughtfully as he watched Haldir walk away, after observing the very familiar and possessive parting glance he leveled at Ahrhî. He stared piercingly at his daughter, but she seemed to be looking anywhere but at him.

He chuckled and ruffled the curls across her forehead as he had always done, and jerked his head toward the archery range, knowing she would relax and unburden herself to him more quickly while engaged in a familiar activity.

She smiled and followed him, happy that he was so well recovered so that she could discern no noticeable injury at all.

They each took a bow and arrows from the rack of weapons available while they chatted. Hathor fired first, hitting the center of his practice target, and seconds later, Ahrhî did the same with hers. He smiled and nodded. "You have improved greatly in the time we have been apart."

She grinned. "One of Haldir's brothers instructed me with the bow, and Lord Celeborn took it upon himself to help me improve with the sword. The Lady Galadriel even kindly gave of her time to tutor me in learning to command the elemental powers I have long struggled with. When I was deemed able, I was allowed to help guard at the border of Lórien, under Haldir's command."

Lowering his bow, Hathor turned his full attention on her. "Tell me more of this Haldir. What manner of elf is he?"

Her brow furrowed trying to think of how best to describe him. "He is…rather arrogant and proud, at times. He is used to giving orders and having them obeyed, which I suppose has somewhat made him that way. He can be maddening to deal with if you do not agree with him. Or- I suppose even if you do agree with him."

He crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the table that held the arrows, suppressing a smile. "He is rather disagreeable to you, then?"

Her mouth opened in surprise. "Nay, not disagreeable! Not at all. He is also very loyal and a strong warrior with an iron will; in fact, I think there are few who can best him in battle. He's a conscientious caretaker, both of his two younger brothers and the realm he is sworn to protect. He is an altogether excellent elf. I daresay Lothlórien would not be nearly so well protected were he not in charge of its borders. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel depend upon him, and with good reason."

Hathor looked at her for a long moment, both fondness and a slight sadness in his gaze. "I see."

Tilting her head, she frowned. "You see what?"

He walked forward and took both her hands in his. "I see that he is clearly smitten with you, and you with him." He wrapped her hand around his arm and began leading her back toward the archway she had come through earlier. "When were you planning on telling me the truth, hmm?"

She looked down at the ground where they walked and glanced up quickly with a crooked grin. "Now? I do love him, Ada, and he me."

He patted the hand on his arm. "Perhaps it is just as well you've found someone with a will strong enough to meet your own. I am getting far too old to keep up with your mischievous ways."

"That's nonsense, you have many years worth of scoldings left to give me, I'm sure," she protested in mock outrage.

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he smiled. "Do you suppose he knows what he is letting himself in for? Perhaps I should tell him about that barn incident in Bree. You know the locals there still speak about it?"

She laughed outright. "Father, you wouldn't! In any case, I have taken no pains to hide the fact that I am endless trouble from Haldir. If anything, I have given him a double dose, so he can never say he wasn't warned."

Hathor laughed and pulled Ahrhî in for a hug. "That's my girl! I would not wish you to be other than who you truly are, nor to hide it from anyone."

She ginned up at him and hugged him back. "Ada, I have missed you so! You'll never know what I suffered when I thought you were...when I saw your blood..." All the anguish she had experienced from believing him lost was in her eyes, and he felt that pain keenly looking at her.

He shushed her and held her tighter. "I regret my actions caused you to suffer so. I, too, lived through an agony of worry, when I was left to wonder what had become of you after you disappeared from Bree without a trace." The look he gave her was all she needed to feel thoroughly chastised for her impulsive and heedless behavior.

"Please forgive me! You know I could no more sit idly by than you would have, had it been me in your place."

He sighed and shook his head at her, his eyes full of love and exasperation, and she giggled at the heartwarming and familiar expression on his dear face. They began walking again, their steps unhurried as they fell into a comfortable silence where words were no longer necessary.

 

* * *

~o~


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

The following days for Ahrhî passed in a warm glow of contentment. Having both her father and Haldir close by was to know complete happiness, with the two people she loved most in all middle-earth. A small part of her wished things could remain as they were forever, but another part, a larger part, sighed with impatience and longing when she looked at Haldir.

She had a book of romantic elven poetry from the room where she was staying and found a secluded spot where she could read and enjoy the rays of light shining down on her, as she tried to sort out her thoughts and feelings. She was even voluntarily wearing a gown, feeling far more gentle and feminine in Imladris than she ever had anywhere else. It seemed she was going soft in the alluring magic of the place.

Her bare toes enjoying the cool blades of soft grass against them, she wriggled them in simple delight. As she read another line of the overly flowery verse, she found herself wrinkling her nose as she set it aside with a sigh of annoyance. Haldir's quiet approach was a welcome relief.

Seating himself on the bench beside her, he pulled her feet into his lap with one hand, rubbing them absently while he lifted the book with his other and scanned it quickly, shooting her an amused look as he set it to one side.

"Not the kind of book you prefer, _Naurwen_?"

Biting her lip, she shook her head. "It seems a little silly to me, is all. You would never speak such words to me, or if you did I fear I should be taken by fits of laughter. People do not speak to each other in that way outside of books," she finished in exasperation.

He gave her a considering look. "Are you inferring that I could not move your heart through verse?"

Ahrhî giggled, uncertain at what the challenge in his eyes foretold. "Haldir, I'm sure you could give me a recounting of yesterday's weather and still find a way to move my heart with it if you chose, but why should you want to?"

Smiling mysteriously, his hand wandered to the lower part of her leg beneath her dress, kneading her muscles and gently rubbing the skin there. "You deserve to be wooed with tenderness and affection. Would you not enjoy a sonnet praising your unique beauty or the wildness of your spirit?"

She lifted a brow and winced. "I think I would rather prefer to fight an orc."

Pulling her into his arms, he chuckled, recalling the book he had discovered in her talan in Lórien. "Aye, you are a woman of action above all else."

Resting a hand against his chest, she stopped just short of allowing his mouth to press against hers and smiled impishly at him. "Would you wish me to be otherwise? I suppose I could learn to moon around after you, fainting and sighing, but that sounds rather insipid."

He ran a finger down her cheek as she spoke and shook his head. "I would not change any part of you, for you are wholly delightful," he said, pressing his lips to hers at last, slowly and tenderly. When she licked at his bottom lip and tugged it gently with her teeth, he drew back with a ragged sigh.

"You are also a very quick study, turning my own lessons against me, you minx."

She traced his ear, running a light finger over the velvety soft pointed tip, taking careful note of the shudder that went through him, and hiding a smile when he caught her hand and kissed it, preventing her from teasing him further.

"Have you spoken with Lord Elrond yet, Haldir?" The question of their bonding was always at the forefront of her mind when they spent time alone, but she had not mentioned it again since their arrival in Rivendell.

His eyes followed the flight of a bird across the cloudless blue sky before he shook his head and looked at her. "I have not. You seem happy and content at present, and on further reflection I thought it best to wait, after all. It is likely you will accompany your uncle for a visit to your other kin after he arrives, and I cannot remain away from my duties in Lothlórien forever."

Ahrhî frowned, not liking the idea of going to a far off place without Haldir. "But why would we not bond before, and then you could accompany me on a visit to my kin. Will you really send me away without you and return to Lórien on your own?" She felt a cold wave of panic at the thought of being separated from him for countless months, and searched his face anxiously for any sign he might only be jesting.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and wound a wayward red curl around his fingers. " _Naurwen,_ I know you wish to have me shield you from your uncle's expectations and wishes, but have you considered that I will be no less demanding of you than he? My claim on you will be absolute and my will is implacable, as you know. Perhaps you should enjoy your small freedoms while you may, for as my bond-mate you will no longer be able to flit off to and fro as inclination arises."

Her eyes widened in alarm and she gave a nervous laugh. "You make it sound so ominous. What could you possibly require of me in future that you do not already expect?"

He gave her a long look and tapped her nose teasingly, although his eyes remained serious. "Your absolute obedience. I will never stand idly by and accept the kind of behavior that leads to you fighting orcs in the nude. If you ever attempt to defy me where your safety is concerned, there will be grave consequences for your actions.

She bit her lip, uncertain as to exactly whether she was feeling intimidated or aroused, or perhaps she was feeling both at once. Haldir had always been brusque, demanding and relentless, these were not new traits, but she had not considered how different it might be to become the focus of such things as his mate, and with much more specific expectations on his part. She especially wondered how he might go about punishing her, should she defy him.

She tossed her head with a huff and pouted at him. "Haldir, you know I wish to provoke you now just to see what you will do. It is not as though you can just turn me over your knee and spank me as if I were a small child when the whim strikes."

He smirked and lifted a brow in challenge. "Can I not," he murmured. "Are you absolutely certain of this?"

At her look of alarm, he gentled his expression with a chuckle, and stroked her arm soothingly. "I jest, Ahrhî. I would never strike you, but there are other ways to make a point, my _Naurwen,_ that require no violence. Where your safety is concerned, I say again, I will brook no refusal."

"Of course," she said with a nod, "that is a perfectly reasonable expectation, after all."

"I'm pleased to have your agreement on the matter." He pulled her back into his arms so that she reclined across his lap and he could gaze down at her while she basked in the daylight, closing her eyes against the bright glare.

She smiled but still kept her eyes closed. "How ever did we go from discussing plans for bonding, to you warming my backside in so short a time," she wondered in bewilderment.

Haldir tilted his head back and let his own eyes drift shut, a smile in his voice. "It's a mystery, _Naurwen."_

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî held the bowstring against her cheek, anchoring against the edge of her jawline as she had always done, and sighting on the target in the distance. Haldir placed his warm hands on either side of her hips and turned them minutely, adjusting her stance very slightly. She released her arrow and immediately drew another one from her quiver and nocked it, letting the second one go seconds later. When the third thudded into the target, she lowered her bow and looked at him expectantly.

Somehow, he hadn't yet noticed that she was purposefully making small mistakes, since he always corrected her by touch and she enjoyed it. In fact, she was enjoying her archery lesson far more than any other she had ever had.

He pursed his lips as he examined the grouping of her arrows, then turned to her, a gleam of approval in his eyes. "Better. Did you feel the difference when I adjusted your position?"

She lowered her eyes in an attempt to hide the laugh that was struggling to break free and bit her lip hard to stop her smile. "Yes, Haldir, I definitely felt it. But if you want to show me again, I assure you I have no objection."

When she next looked at him, it was apparent he had intuited from her comment and expression what she was playing at, and was giving her a slow smile. "Little seductress," he murmured, stepping closer. "If you wanted my hands on you, you have but to ask."

Unclasping her leather shooting glove, she pulled it off and shrugged. "It isn't nearly as enjoyable if I have to ask." Putting her own bow down, she lifted his and held it out. "Show me?"

He hesitated briefly, then accepted the bow with a small smile. Pulling on his quiver and adjusting it, he lifted his bow, nocked an arrow, then drew it back and released, all in one fluid movement. He repeated the process, increasing in momentum, until arrows flew more rapidly at the target, nearly one on top of the other. Ahrhî sat on the bench near him and watched in awed fascination, marveling at the speed, power and precision with which he handled his bow.

When his quiver was empty, he removed it and set aside both it and his bow. He went and seated himself on the bench beside her, her eyes following him all the while. "How long did it take you to achieve such proficiency with a bow, Haldir?"

He removed his own shooting glove and arm guards and set them aside before taking one of her hands between both of his. "It has taken me many centuries to arrive at the level of skill I now possess. Much time in practice; countless battles. In short, a very long time."

She digested his words for a moment, looking in the direction of the sinking sun and sighing regretfully. "I suppose I should go and change before the evening meal."

"I do not think there is any need to." He leaned back more comfortably on the bench, lacing the fingers of one of his hands with hers and allowing the other to rest on the back of the bench behind her. "There is no special occasion to dress for; you must wear what you like."

She shot him a rueful look. "I don't see any other females here that dress as I do."

"I little know why you should concern yourself with that when you've never attempted to be like other females, nor should you."

Looking down at their joined hands, she ran the fingers of her free hand across his knuckles. "But I wish to please you." She looked at him uncertainly. "I thought you preferred gowns."

He smiled, his eyes soft. "You do please me, regardless of what you wear...or, don't wear," he said with a wry look. "Moreover, I have quite a fondness for you in leggings. Particularly when you bend forward or reach up, and your tunic goes significantly higher than you are aware, showing the barest hint of skin, low on your back..."

"Haldir!" She gasped, both flustered and flattered that he had watched her so closely, even when she was unaware, then she drew in a sharp breath at a sudden revelation. "Is that why you always had me climb the hithlain ladder in front of you?"

His smirk sent her into a fit of giggles. "Is this where I should admit to purposefully shooting my arrows higher than I would ever be able to reach during practice at the fences, for the ulterior motive of having you retrieve them for me so I had justification to watch you."

Haldir raised a brow in amusement. "You have a devious mind, _Naurwen_."

Hathor walked through the archway leading to the practice grounds and smiled when he stood before the pair. "Ahrhî, your uncle and his warriors have arrived. They are with Lord Elrond in the main hall if you want to go and greet them."

She hesitated and Haldir stood and looked at her expectantly, making her sigh. "I suppose I must."

Falling into step beside her and Haldir, Hathor laughed. "You sound as though you were going to your own execution. I'm sure it cannot be as bad as all that."

She frowned, shooting her father a disgruntled look. "We shall see."

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî stood outside on the balcony of the dining hall, enjoying the night air and admiring the stars. Her uncle had been far more pleasant with her than he had in Lórien, and she admitted to herself that she may have misjudged him.

After sharing an enjoyable meal, he had told several amusing stories of her getting into mischief as a toddling infant, followed by Hathor's somewhat embarrassing tales of her further adventures as a young girl; and by adventures he meant catastrophes, which he shared with apparent relish.

She was forced to retreat and seek a temporary respite while the high color in her cheeks from mortification cooled. An elf was singing an air in the courtyard, and she tilted her head to listen, suddenly missing Rúmil terribly. Haldir, who had been absent since shortly after dinner, came up and extended a hand to her.

"Walk with me."

Slipping her hand into his, she allowed him to lead her down the steps and onto a path toward the river, only stopping when they stood atop a wide bridge over the rushing water.

She looked at him quizzically when he pulled her against him, his countenance unusually serious as he examined her features in the bright moonlight. His marked gravity and continued silence were unnerving.

"Is aught amiss, Haldir? You seem unlike yourself."

He sighed and lowered his head slowly toward her, breathing his words quietly.

"Kiss me, _Naurwen_."

She readily complied, twining her arms around his neck and caressing his lips gently with her own before he tightened his embrace and the kiss turned more urgent; passionate with a hint of desperation. He had never held her so tightly or as closely as he did in that moment.

She pulled away just enough to speak, while he trailed his lips across her cheek and neck. "What is it? Won't you tell me?"

He straightened, although he continued to hold her firmly against him, drawing his fingers lightly over the same cheek he had just kissed. He ran his gaze across her face, finally meeting her own.

"Lord Celeborn sent correspondence with your uncle. I am called back to Lórien with all haste, Ahrhî. I and those of my company are to depart within the hour."

Her heart stuttered in her chest then raced thunderously as a denial automatically spilled from her lips.

"Nay, but...you mustn't..."

His eyes were troubled, and sympathized with what he saw in hers. "I must. I am sorry, beloved, I thought we would have a little more time together before we were parted."

She wrapped her arms tightly around his back, fisting handfuls of his tunic while she hid her face against his chest. "I _cannot_ let you go," she said plaintively.

The plans they had made, even their proposed bonding- It was all slipping away. How was she to cope with such sudden news? When would she even see him again? Their separation would be interminable.

He stroked the long curls hanging loose down her back, his other hand splayed low across her hip while he just held her. After a time, he reached for her chin and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes.

The green depths were swimming with unshed tears which spilled over as soon as she lifted her gaze to his. He drug his lips across the wet paths on her cheeks before claiming her lips, the salt of her tears lending the taste of the kiss a bittersweet poignancy. Pulling away slightly, he tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear.

"You bear my love always with you, even though you roam far away from me. I shall be there." He laid his right hand above her breast where her heart beat the strongest. "And I keep you here." He laid the same hand on his own chest, over his heart.

She brushed a hand across her face, wiping away the remaining wetness there and nodded sadly before squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin with a look of determination. He cradled her face in his hands and smiled down at her, eyes gentle. "There is your courageous spirit, shining out of your beautiful eyes. I will never tire of seeing it."

He kissed her again lingeringly, before he drew a steadying breath. "I know you have an obligation to your family in Mithlond, which will obviously keep you away for some time- But when your visit is through and your wandering done, I will await you in Lórien, where we will wed. Come back to me," he said firmly.

She gripped his wrists and stood on her tip toes to press another kiss to his lips. "I will, Haldir, I love you so."

"As I love you, Ahrhî." He rested his forehead against hers for several heartbeats, looking deeply into her eyes to draw strength for the separation that lay ahead of them.

"Namárië, Naurwen amin." ( _Farewell, my fire maiden._ _)_

He turned and walked back down the path, his silvery hair bright in the moonlight. Ahrhî watched until he was no longer in sight, continuing to stare at the empty space long after he had gone.

"Namárië, Haldir." Her whisper heard only by the wind and the night. She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around herself, and wept.

 

* * *

 

Days later, Haldir walked the perimeter of the camp while all but the few warriors on watch rested. The agitation in his heart and extreme anxiety of mind made him delay in seeking his own rest. He wandered further from the other elves in his desire for solitude and leaned against a tree, letting his head fall back to rest against the trunk.

He closed his eyes and searched deep inside himself until he was fully focused on the small, vital spark that was his connection to Ahrhî, now dimmed but still shining within. Like a heartbeat taken for granted, but always felt in the background. Would it still remain at all when the distance between them grew, and if not, how would the stark absence of her light affect him? Haldir wondered if she even felt the deep affinity they shared or experienced it as he did, as they had never had a reason to speak of it.

It was something that had inexplicably come about the very first time he had kissed her, and the wild power that was a part of her had sought something within him, leaving behind something of her that had somehow allowed him to feel her at all times. It had been a curiosity at first, and sometimes a torment, but when they were apart he had come to rely on it for reassurance regarding her well-being.

Gradually releasing his focus on the link, he opened his eyes again, seeking the stars above him. Perhaps when he reached Caras Galadhon again, the Lord and Lady could offer him guidance and insight as to what he was experiencing, or how best to manage so he would not be distracted from his duties by these feelings.

And why a shadow of fear grew in his heart the further Ahrhî was from him.

 

* * *

 

Breitha, the sweet-tempered bay Ahrhî rode, plodded calmly along as they made their way down the East-West Road toward Bree, following Hathor and Artaril, and surrounded on all other sides by Rangers and elven warriors. Never before had she traveled with such a large escort, finding it an entirely new experience.

Hathor had been of a mind to have her visit her kin without his presence or interference, reasoning he had already kept her from her family for so long that they should have the pleasure of knowing her without him hovering about. But Ahrhî had begged so fervently, and with how low her spirits had been in the weeks since Haldir's departure, Hathor relented, deciding to go with her and stay for a brief time before returning to his patrolling duties while she completed her visit.

Bringing his horse alongside hers, Hathor squinted at her in the bright daylight. "What say you to a bit of sword practice among the Rangers when we stop for the night? There is much interest in observing your skills, now it is known you have been trained by a great elven lord. Elegost especially wished to test you.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise, some of her usual, quick temper apparent when she narrowed her eyes at her father. "And just how exactly did the Rangers come to hear such a thing?"

He grinned, entirely unrepentant. "I told them, of course! I am proud of your abilities, and why should I not be? You are as skilled a ranger as any." He shrugged. "Some exercise would do you good. All this moping you have been engaged in is bad for your health, Firebrand."

Ahrhî glared, her green eyes snapping with anger. "Moping," she seethed. "I do not _mope!_ "

Hathor nodded with a satisfied smile. "Excellent. I'll let Elegost know you will gladly accept his challenge to duel." He galloped off toward the front of the column before she could sputter in outrage.

She huffed and slumped in her saddle, aware she had been very neatly outmaneuvered by her concerned father, and feeling a sudden pang of guilt for worrying him. Straightening her shoulders after a moment, she reached out to pat her horse gently, deciding a little practice might not be a bad thing, after all.

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî stood on the perimeter of the far edge of the camp where the company had stopped for the night and swung her sword in a few muscle-loosening strikes, strangely nervous to fight in front of the Rangers, though most of them were known to her. Elegost being her only new and recent acquaintance among them, and she really knew nothing of him beyond his name.

Hathor called to her and she sheathed her sword and followed him through the elves and men milling about, engaged in various tasks or resting and eating. Elegost stood waiting for her calmly with his arms crossed, but pressed a hand to his heart and bowed respectfully when she approached.

"Lady Ahrhî, thank you for indulging me. I've not had the opportunity to duel with many female warriors, and I admit I am quite curious as to how your style would differ from mine. I am much better with my bow, but I can manage a sword well enough when pressed."

She bowed her head in acknowledgement. "My pleasure, Elegost, although I must warn you that my style consists of whatever helps me survive and attain victory. Not all of my methods are of the honorable kind, as Lord Celeborn felt that due to my lesser size and strength, I should employ every advantage open to me."

He laughed. "That is both wise and practical. Shall we begin, or do you need more time to prepare?"

Ahrhî whirled away, calling over her shoulder, "I need but a moment." She removed her cloak and thicker over tunic, leaving her in the sleeveless, lighter weight top she favored for sword fighting. Lastly, she had taken to wearing her hair unbound as Haldir preferred, so took a moment to weave the scarlet waves into a thick braid down her back and secured it so as not to impede her during the fight.

Elegost already had his sword out, having also removed his cloak. His eyes swept her, taking in the changes she had made. When she stepped forward and raised her blade, he nodded and did the same.

After a moment of circling, he came at her with a slow, lazy strike, followed soon after by another. Irritated, she pressed her own attack, using all the speed she was capable of, causing him to stumble back and nearly lose his balance in his effort to block. She gave him a sharp look, her brow raised in challenge, and he smiled ruefully.

"My apologies. I will not make the mistake of underestimating your skills again."

Elegost's eyes grew serious, and when they circled again they were both testing one another in earnest, looking for flaws and openings. When he evaded one of her thrusts and moved so that his entire weight was briefly on his right leg, Ahrhî crouched and quickly swept his leg out from under him with her own and pounced on his chest, her weight holding him down, the tip of her sword to his throat.

He stared up at her in surprise before she quickly released him, allowing him to get to his feet, a new intensity burning in his eyes as he came at her, far more swiftly and tenaciously than before. For a time, neither were able to break through the guard of the other, being on the whole, fairly equal in skill; although Elegost had greater strength and reach, Ahrhî had superior speed.

They twisted and twirled around each other, trading strikes in a deadly dance that ended with his sword at her own neck, a smile of triumph on his face, while she smirked and looked down significantly to draw his attention to her own sword poised just above his groin, threatening his manhood.

Another fleeting look of surprise graced the features of his rugged face before he smiled and burst into loud laughter, lowering his sword and grasping her shoulder firmly. Shouts of laughter, approval, and scattered applause rose from the Rangers and few elves that watched the duel.

"Well played, Lady Ahrhî! It seems we are quite well matched after all." His grey eyes glowed with a keen intensity when he looked down at her that made her furrow her brows and step back, causing him to remove his hand.

Hathor came forward, grinning. "Come and sit by the fire now. You've both earned a bit of a rest after your exertions."

Smiling, Ahrhî leaned into Hathor when he wrapped his arm around her, guiding her to the crackling heat of the fire and seating her beside him. Realizing she had not yet been bold enough to ask him what exactly had happened with the orcs that took him, she decided now might be the time to sate her curiosity.

"Ada, how ever did you escape the foul creatures that captured you? You've not said…. I found your tracks, as well as your dagger and pack. There was so much blood. What happened?" His arm tightened around her in comfort as he took a moment to remember.

"There were a great number of them, and I was alone and overwhelmed. It was a leg wound that brought me down, for it bled profusely, and I soon fell unconscious. It is ironic, but it was actually an orc that saved my life at the time, by tying a tight cord around the leg and cutting off the blood flow."

She gave him a questioning look and he continued the tale.

"Not for any benevolent purpose, mind, but these were Moria orcs. It seems they wanted to keep the meat from spoiling until they could get it back to their lair for a feast, so they had no wish for me to die right away." Hathor gave her a cheeky grin. "Had they eaten me, I feel certain I should have taken final revenge by giving them all sour bellies, for I am both old and tough."

"Ada! How can you jest so?" She shuddered in horror at the thought.

He threw his head back and laughed. "Why should I not? It was my enemies that met death, not I. Fortune smiled on me indeed, for I had not been held captive a full two days when Halbarad and the sons of Elrond; Elladan and Elrohir, discovered me and came to my aid. They slew every orc and took me swiftly to Imladris, for they rode mounts. I was months under the care of Lord Elrond, and it was by his efforts I came to discover you had traveled to Lothlórien and yet remained there."

He gave her a very stern look. "Strider told me he spoke with you in Bree, but when he returned as he promised you, he could find no sign of your presence. He came to Imladris thinking perhaps you had preceded him there or we had been reunited." Hathor shook his head and spoke more quietly, so only she would hear. "Aragorn was most distressed to discover that you had been seen by none, as was I. Thank Eru you were kept safe."

She shook her head in wonder, slightly less upset by his tale than she would have been previously. "It was a strange and unexpected series of events that brought about a myriad of things. How many changes have occurred since then."

Ahrhî let herself recall the sorrow of her parting with Haldir, unconsciously reaching up to rub at the ache in her chest she experienced whenever she thought of him. She wondered where he was and what he was doing at that exact moment, sighing at the deep longing that suffused her entire being.

Hathor scrutinized her, pulling her against him again in comfort, easily able to see where her thoughts wandered from her pensive expression and repeated sighs.

Elegost came and seated himself near them and lit his pipe, the grey clouds of smoke winging skyward and partially obscuring the stars.

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî grinned at all the gasps, whispers and stares drawn by the elf walking beside her, thoroughly enjoying herself as the fascination of the people at seeing an elf were readily apparent. When they had approached Bree, she had asked to be allowed to stop for a time and go into the town, wanting to make a few purchases, as well as drop in and greet her little friends, Nob and Bob.

Artaril had insisted on accompanying her, much to her delight. She herself had never seen an elf in Bree, and in light of a past conversation she had with Haldir on the subject, she was exceedingly curious to observe how the folk would react.

When a woman dropped the basket of wash she was carrying and stared at her uncle in open-mouthed amazement, Ahrhî laughed outright, further tickled when Artaril gave her an amused smile.

"What a burden it must be to have such remarkable beauty that others are overcome by it." She smiled teasingly and shook her head. "I am relieved I did not have to contend with that, or it should have made my life considerably more uncomfortable and difficult among men."

It was Artaril's turn to laugh, the full, musical sound drawing even more gasps and stares from the men and women of the village. He gave her a penetrating look, clasping his hands behind his back as they walked. "You are charmingly unaware of all the attention you draw, daughter of my sister. I will not attempt to embarrass you by pointing it out, nor how the eyes of many follow you about camp, both man and elf."

She blushed and looked down, flustered at his implication and grateful for the timing which allowed her an immediate escape into the shop where she purchased her soaps. Ducking inside, she quickly found her favorite lavender scent and paid for it, then stepped back out into the bright sunshine. Drawing a breath, she examined Artaril's profile, thinking that despite her incorrect initial impression, he really was a wonderful and kind person, so very handsome and funny, and she frowned.

"Artaril..." He looked over at her and she bit her lip. "How is it that you have not wed? Have you never loved anyone in that way?"

He gazed up at the blue sky, and she wondered for a moment if she had offended him with her question, but he turned to look at her, a slight quirk to his lips.

"There was one who I thought I could perhaps come to care for in such a way." He hesitated, a shadow of regret in his blue eyes. "But it happened that she took the ship to the west before I gathered the courage to speak. Perhaps it is as well, for I am content as I am. I have many friendships I value greatly, as well as the love of both of my parents."

Moved by what he shared with her, as well as the realization that she truly had blood kin again, she slipped her arm around his and gave him an impish smile. "You also have my love, uncle, freely given."

He looked at her tenderly, reaching to place his hand over hers. "I thank the Valar for keeping you safe and bringing you back into my life, Ahrhî, for I have loved you since I first held you in my arms as a newborn babe."

She blinked at the sting of tears in her eyes. "I regret running off as I did in Lórien. That was very wrong, and I hope you will forgive me." Ahrhî's brows drew together in distress at the look of raw pain she saw in his eyes.

"Of course I forgive you, but will you give me your word never to do such a thing again? Promise to come speak to me if you should ever have an urgent need to travel, or feel compelled to a certain place," he said fervently.

Her mouth opened in surprise at his request. "Of course I will give you my word, and gladly so. It was never my intention to cause you pain." They walked slowly in the direction of the Prancing Pony. "I am trying to mend my impulsive ways, uncle. Haldir often urges me to reflect more on the far-reaching consequences of my actions, rather than charging ahead with no forethought."

The torment she had glimpsed in his eyes faded to relief at her words, before his expression turned more thoughtful. "The Marchwarden seems wise and insightful, although perhaps a bit on the severe side."

"Yes," she said quietly, looking down the lane where they walked. "He is indeed an excellent elf, and most wise."

They paid a quick visit to her hobbit friends, but Ahrhî left feeling out of sorts after she introduced Artaril as her uncle and they looked at her so strangely and behaved very differently toward her than before.

After a final stop to greet her favorite tree, which made Artaril smile, they returned to where the company were encamped well outside the village. Several hours later found Ahrhî staring broodingly into the fire, where Hathor discovered her. Sitting down beside her, he took up her sword and the sharpening stone where she had discarded them both and began to hone her blade.

The sound of stone sliding against steel finally broke through her abstraction and she turned to watch her father. He looked up after a time, briefly testing the sharpness of the sword before resuming his methodical efforts.

"Would you care to discuss what's on your mind, or do you find glowering at the fire to be more satisfying?"

She snorted a laugh, amused in spite of herself by her blunt father, then bit her lip and deflated. "I just find Bree far different than when I was last here. It saddens me."

Finally satisfied with his work, Hathor laid aside her sword and drew out his pipe-weed and pipe, preparing to smoke. "It is not Bree that is changed, Ahrhî, but you. Your fundamental understanding of who you are and where you come from has altered; you cannot expect the world around you not to reflect such a transformation."

He lit his pipe and inhaled deeply. "You have also had many new experiences and learned much since you last departed Bree. You are a very different woman from the one you were then, are you not?"

She rubbed her hands against the leggings covering her thighs before turning her hands over to inspect the thick calluses on her palms, recalling how hard she had worked to acquire them. "I suppose I am."

Ahrhî watched her father smoke, finding comfort in his words and presence, just as she always had, as he invariably seemed to know just what she needed to hear. She was happy to realize there were some things that had not changed for her, and smiled.

"Thank you, Ada." Tilting her head, she asked the same question she had been asking him for more than twenty-five years. "Are you ever going to let me smoke your pipe?"

He blew a perfect ring and grinned, giving back the same answer he always had, completing the longstanding ritual.

"Perhaps. Ask me again next year."

She laughed and laid down on her back to watch the stars.

 

* * *

 

**For any other video game fans who played Lord of the Rings: The Third Age, you may have recognized that I borrowed the character of Elegost, who was a playable Ranger with awesome bow skills. :)**

 

* * *

~o~


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

When the proud towers of Mithlond came into view, standing tall and reaching toward the sky, Ahrhî inhaled the salt tang of the sea air and smiled up at the circling gulls. The hooves of the horses clattered loudly as they traversed the wide cobblestone street leading into the heart of the city, announcing their arrival to all.

Artaril led the company of elves and Rangers to stables just off the main road, where their horses would remain and be tended. Ahrhî dismounted and handed the reins of her horse to a bright-eyed elleth with a murmur of thanks, and wandered out of the stables and away from the organized chaos their arrival had caused.

When Artaril came to fetch her, she was gazing out beyond the bay at the undulating waves, seemingly mesmerized. He smiled, well aware of the effect the sea had on all elves, having seen similar reactions countless times, as all the Eldar in middle-earth came to Mithlond to depart for Valinor. He loved his home, but it was a bittersweet thing living where they did.

Taking Ahrhî's arm and wrapping it around his own, he led her deeper into the heart of the city, quietly describing each notable landmark they passed, and some of the history behind several of the stone monuments, twice stopping to introduce her to friends and acquaintances along the way.

Opening a tall, ivy covered iron gate, he led her down a wide path toward a large, stately looking building. The ornate railing of the veranda in front was covered in a riot of bright flowers, waving gently in the breeze. Reaching for her hand, Artaril drew her up the wide stairs and smiled eagerly, the bright auburn strands of his hair shining in the sunlight, his blue eyes suspiciously moist as he opened the door and drew her through the entrance.

"Welcome home, _Gwaloth_."

She looked around in wonder at the gray and white marbled floors of the entryway they passed through, and at the entrancing paintings and colored glass displayed about the gallery they traversed, before arriving in a comfortably appointed sitting room, an entire wall of glass allowing an unimpeded prospect of the shining waves of the bay beyond. But it was the sight of the beautiful and regal, red-haired woman who came through the opposite doorway that truly arrested her attention, causing all else to fade away around her.

"Naneth," Artaril said in a hushed voice, filled with emotion, "here is Ahrhî, come home to us at last."

Árëlen walked forward slowly, the rich, midnight blue of her gown emphasizing the brighter blue of her eyes which shone with wonder and a sheen of tears. Reaching out, she stroked her granddaughter's cheek and leaned forward to press a kiss against her other cheek, then looked into her eyes for a long moment.

"Precious child, such joy you bring with you. I praise Eru that you have been kept safe through all the trials you have faced." Taking both of Ahrhî's hands in hers, she raised them out to the sides and stepped back slightly, examining her with a delighted smile. "How very lovely you have grown, as I always knew you would."

Swallowing, Ahrhî remembered her voice. "Thank you, Naneth-nana, I..." Overcome by emotion, Ahrhî's eyes overflowed, her tears choking off her words. Árëlen wrapped her in her comforting embrace and Ahrhî clung to her, finally able to know the true touch of maternal love and welcome. Even as the newness of it all washed over her, there was a feeling of distant familiarity, as from a long-forgotten dream.

Ahrhî wiped her eyes with a self-deprecating laugh. "Forgive me, I've always imagined what it might be like to meet my family, but this is so much more real than anything I could ever have pictured that I am quite overpowered."

Árëlen smiled kindly and reached for one of Ahrhî's hands, squeezing gently in reassurance. "Your feelings are entirely justified and understandable, please do not be ashamed of them. You are beloved here, my darling girl."

Turning to Artaril, she grasped his hand and he leaned close to receive her kiss. "My son, my heart is full at the safe return of you both from your long journey. Will you go and greet your father and tell him you are come?"

"Of course, Naneth." He smiled at Ahrhî in parting.

Gesturing to one of the settees, Árëlen moved to a low table nearby. "Will you take some tea to refresh you, Ahrhî?"

She seated herself and nodded. "I will, thank you."

After pouring the tea, she glanced over at her granddaughter. "With milk and honey?"

Ahrhî glanced up from where she had been running a hand across the rich upholstery of the couch where she sat. "That sounds perfect."

She accepted the delicate cup and saucer that Árëlen extended to her and took a small sip of the tea and smiled in delight. "How delicious. Very refreshing, truly."

Árëlen sat opposite her and sipped from her own cup, a fond twinkle in her eyes. "This was your mother's favorite tea. Nauriel could not get through the day with any fewer than three cups."

Biting her lip, Ahrhî leaned forward eagerly. "What was my mother like; can you perhaps tell me something of her? That is to say... if it would not grieve you to speak of her."

Taking another slow sip, Árëlen lowered her cup again, a contemplative look in her eyes. Briefly, she closed her eyes in memory. "She was passionate...kind and impulsive, sometimes heedless, often stubborn and headstrong, but above all, loving. She loved your father very deeply." She smiled at Ahrhî, then laughed, the sound bright and clear. "When they were still playmates, I overheard her as she informed Rilien in a most serious voice, that he would wed her when they were grown."

Ahrhî laughed with her grandmother, entranced. "Truly? Did my father never protest such a decree?"

Still smiling, Árëlen shook her head. "Never. Two halves of a whole they were, from childhood. Both families knew they were destined to be bond-mates, and did not protest their relatively young ages at the time they chose to wed."

Her mouth opening in surprise, Ahrhî set aside her empty cup and clasped her hands together, feeling a deep kinship with her mother, the more she heard of her. "What were their ages when they bonded?"

Árëlen smiled, her eyes examining her granddaughter's face closely. "Your mother was only a bit younger than you are now and had not yet reached her fiftieth year before entering marriage, having taken more after my heritage than her elvish side. Your father was just shy of his eightieth year."

"I'm…. _older_ than she was? Truly?"

Her heart pounding hard in her chest, Ahrhî looked down. She felt her mother would have understood and approved her love for Haldir and not judged her too young, since she herself was even younger.

"Yes, for you are now in your fiftieth year. You were the crowning jewel of their lives. They both doted on you, lavishing all their attention and affection on you, and rightly so."

Feeling a deep dread in the pit of her stomach, but desperately wanting to know more, Ahrhî searched Árëlen's face. "But what happened? Why did my father go away?"

Sighing, Árëlen rose and placed her cup on the table with the tea service and sat next to Ahrhî and reached for one of her hands. "A series of decisions that seemed inconsequential at the time. You must understand, Rilien was a dedicated scholar and delighted in learning. He heard there were many ancient texts in Lord Elrond's library that he deeply wished to spend time studying, and determined to go immediately and do so. But he was concerned for your safety, and as Nauriel refused to ever be parted from you, he decided you must both remain here in Mithlond while he journeyed to Imladris on his own."

Árëlen looked into Ahrhî's eyes, her own full of sorrow. "I think it was not terribly long after he left that Nauriel must have undoubtedly felt it, when Rilien was...lost to her. She changed, losing much of her vibrancy and becoming very quiet and pensive, often shutting herself away with only you and her closest companion, Elinwen, even shunning her family. It is my belief that by the time she stole away with you and Elinwen in pursuit of Rilien, she was no longer thinking clearly, no doubt driven by grief and desperation."

Squeezing her hand, Árëlen brought Ahrhî's gaze back to her own, smiling gently. "Their bond was profound, you see. Even had Nauriel stayed here and never gone after your father, I think it likely she would not have survived the loss of him for long."

Ahrhî sat blinking in astonishment. Her mother would have died without her father anyway? That was certainly news to her. There was still so much of elven culture, customs and relationships that she was ignorant of, although she was glad to finally have insight into the tragic fate of her parents, as well as some greater understanding for who they were as individuals.

Her grandmother rose. "Come now, I will show you to your rooms and bathing chamber, where you may rest and change before the evening meal."

Pushing to her feet, Ahrhî smiled and followed Árëlen.

 

* * *

 

Slipping out of her chamber much later, freshly bathed and gowned, Ahrhî wandered toward the sound of voices, smiling at the room full of elves and Hathor, off to one side conversing with a bearded elf with silver hair that shone bright in the lamp light. She stared openly, unable to stop herself, never having seen an elf with facial hair. She had not thought there were any; how strange!

Artaril came forward to meet her and took her hand, leading her toward Árëlen and a tall, dark-haired elf with pale grey eyes whose features were very similar to her uncle's, and she knew immediately it was her grandfather, who she had yet to greet. He smiled, his expression warm and kind, and moved toward her, withdrawing something from his tunic. Reaching around the back of her neck and under the fall of her hair, he clasped a delicate silver necklace set with a deep blue jewel that matched her ring, then kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Welcome back to your home again, my smallest gem." When he stepped back, she fingered the stone at her throat, feeling an answering hum of magic from her ring, and looked at him in surprise.

His smile widened, little crinkles forming around the eyes on his handsome face, proclaiming it was an expression he often wore. "I made this for you, Ahrhî, as a complement to the ring you wear. It will enhance and increase the power you will be able to wield tenfold, should you ever have need of it."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, making him laugh in delight as he returned the embrace. She moved back from the circle of his arms and smiled. "Thank you, Naneth-ada, you are too good to me."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Árëlen led her to where Hathor was speaking with the bearded elf. When he turned to look at her she was struck by the wisdom and great age she could read in his eyes that were as blue as the sea, and wondered just how old he might be, briefly reminded of Lord Celeborn's ancient gaze.

"Ahrhî, this is Círdan, Lord of Mithlond, and one who is very dear to our family."

Curtsying, Ahrhî smiled. "It is an honor to meet you, my lord."

He smiled, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "We have already met, young Ahrhî, although the last time I saw you was when you were sat on my lap and attempted to pull out my beard and then set my face on fire."

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment and her mouth opened in horror while Hathor threw his head back, laughing loudly. She stammered nervously, at a complete loss. "I...I….do hope I did not injure you?"

Círdan laughed good-naturedly. "Not at all, child, it was an entirely new experience for me, which I found rather refreshing. Although," he smiled crookedly, "I'm not looking to repeat it."

She clasped her hands together helplessly and wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole, especially when Hathor launched into a retelling of the infamous 'Barn Incident'. When Artaril soon came up and offered her his arm and a stroll in the garden, Ahrhî never felt greater relief.

As she breathed in the night air and finally felt her cheeks begin to cool, she looked up at Artaril gratefully. "Thank you for your timely rescue, uncle, I feel my own face was on the verge of catching fire."

He seated her on a bench overlooking the water and chuckled. "You will quickly grow used to Lord Círdan. Although he is the very best and wisest of elves, he dearly loves to tease, and never misses an opportunity to indulge."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Since the day I first arrived in Lórien, it seems teasing elves have been a constant in my life. That is something I did not expect. Haldir's youngest brother, Rúmil, is the worst tease I have ever known, although I soon discovered he is quite susceptible to tickle torture." She smiled wickedly. "I had my revenge more than once."

Artaril's brows rose. "It seems you became quite close to the Marchwarden and his brothers during your time there."

She nodded. "Yes, I did. They are all very dear to me. Rúmil and Orophin are like brothers I never had, and Haldir is...he's..." She bit her lip, unsure exactly how to explain her feelings for Haldir, or even if she should. "I..."

"You love him," he interrupted, looking as surprised by his words as she was, but Ahrhî decided she would not deny the truth, the story of her own mother giving her strength.

"We love each other," she said firmly. "When I return to Lothlórien, we plan to wed."

His brows drew together, causing a small pucker between his eyes as he looked at her sadly. "You don't intend to stay with us and make your home here, with your own family? You have only just returned to us, Ahrhî. It would grieve me to lose you again so soon."

She stood and sighed, looking at the water shining in the starlight. "I want to spend time here and get to know you all better, of course." She gave him a small smile. "I do love you and my grandparents, but I cannot stay forever away from where my heart bids me go. It was very difficult for me when Haldir left." She rubbed at the ache in her chest, speaking more quietly. "I have had a pain here since we parted, and it only grows worse over time."

Artaril took her by the shoulders and peered down at her, looking upset. "You have not already secretly bonded with him, have you?"

She frowned up at him. "Of course not, I told you of our plans when we come together again. Why do you think I would do such a thing slyly? I am not deceitful."

He looked like he would speak, then closed his mouth and shook his head, his expression slowly returning to its usual serenity. "It is nothing. Just remember your promise to me, Ahrhî."

She tilted her head, trying to read in his eyes why he seemed so agitated. "I gave you my word, Artaril, I would never break it."

He hugged her tightly for a moment then released her. "Let us return to the others before Naneth comes looking for us. Dinner will soon be served."

Ahrhî followed along behind him, disquieted less by his actual words and more by what she perceived he left unsaid.

 

* * *

 

Ducking quickly into the stables, Ahrhî ran and crouched behind a large barrel and held her breath when she heard footsteps approach, then retreat a moment later. Her left leg was beginning to cramp in earnest when the pretty elven female that tended the horses leaned over her hiding place.

"If you were attempting to evade the man in the green cloak, he has departed."

Ahrhî smiled self-consciously and stood, bending slightly to massage at her cramped muscles. "I thank you…?"

"I am Aredhel, and you are Artaril's sister's child, are you not?"

"Yes, I'm Ahrhî. Thank you for being my lookout, Aredhel. I fear that particular man may want me as more than a sparring partner for his sword." Realizing that what she said might be construed as a form of innuendo, she frowned, her cheeks coloring. "That is to say..."

Aredhel let out a tinkling laugh. "I well understood your meaning, Ahrhî. It is unfortunate that men do not possess the understanding that elves do, or he would know your heart already belonged to another."

Straightening, Ahrhî looked at her curiously. "How is it that you can tell my heart already belongs to someone?"

Aredhel stepped closer, grinning. "Why, there is a brightness to the aura and tone of voice of those who are in love or bonded, as opposed to those who are not. It is quite striking, really."

"That's fascinating. I hope in time, I may be able to see in that way."

"I daresay you will." She followed Ahrhî toward her horse. "You are yet young. I have had much time to observe and notice such things. Do you wish to ride?"

Biting her lip in thought, she finally nodded. "I think a ride may be just the thing."

"And a convenient excuse for escape," Aredhel said with a laugh, her gold eyes twinkling with humor. "Although..." She examined Ahrhî's sword strapped around her waist with interest. "Be cautious if you venture very far beyond the city, there's sometimes danger lurking about, although it seems you know how to fight..."

Ahrhî nodded, resting a hand on her sword hilt while Aredhel prepared her horse. "I thank you for the warning, but I am well able to defend myself, should the need arise."

Some minutes later, Ahrhî was outside the stables and mounted on her gentle bay. Aredhel looked up and wrinkled her nose impishly. "Enjoy your ride. Were I not on duty I would join you and show you some of the lovelier places to explore."

"Oh! Would you when you have some time free? I should dearly love to learn the country hereabouts, and I have so few female friends," she said wistfully.

Aredhel pushed aside her dark braid of hair and nodded. "I am free at week's end, if that would suit you?"

"Indeed! I shall see you later, Aredhel."

When she whispered into her horse's ear, the bay bolted away, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Ahrhî laughed in delight, the sound of the rushing wind in her ears and the bright sunshine warming her face.

 

* * *

 

The sound of crickets filled the night and an owl hooted in the distance, a gentle breeze murmuring softly through the leaves of the tree above her. The stars that were visible were bright spots in the dark curtain of evening. In normal circumstances, Ahrhî should have enjoyed such things, but her situation was far from pleasant.

Gritting her teeth against an intense wave of pain, Ahrhî decided that shifting her position in a search for comfort against the trunk of the tree where she reclined, was much less important than remaining conscious for when help should arrive.

Breitha lowered her head to Ahrhî's face again and whuffed in concern. Lifting her good arm very gingerly, she scratched the bay's head and spoke comfortingly. "Do not worry, girl, I am certain help will come very soon." Looking up at what she could see of the night sky and the position of the crescent moon, she estimated she had been lying injured for at least six hours, although it felt like much longer.

She breathed with difficulty through another strong swell of pain, feeling nauseous and weak and closed her eyes, placing her good hand over her pounding heart and desperately wishing for Haldir's gentle touch and healing skills with every part of her being. How wonderful it would be to feel the rushing heat of his magic, soothing away all of her pain. She imagined him shaking his head in exasperation at how she managed to hurt herself, but smiling comfortingly while he tended her.

Somehow, with such cheering thoughts, she soon managed to float in a semi-aware state where the pain was less intense for a time, as though it moved far away from her, and she almost swore she could feel the imagined comfort of Haldir's warm breath against her face.

When Breitha nickered in warning, she returned to full awareness in time to make out a group of riders approaching. Extending her good hand, she launched a small fireball into the open air to hover and cast light, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Artaril, Hathor, and half a dozen other riders with them.

Hathor dismounted immediately and hurried to her, his hand hovering above her uncertainly in concern, not wanting to touch her until he could discover what ailed her. Artaril followed closely behind.

"Where are you injured, Ahrhî, that you could not ride?"

She hissed out a breath, struggling to prepare herself for what was necessary. "It is my shoulder. I'm certain it's dislocated, and I could not set it to rights without assistance."

Artaril came and crouched beside her, taking her good hand between both of his to give her something to cling to in her pain.

Hathor moved to her other side with a grim look, searching her face. "Do you want something to bite down on first?"

She laughed and then moaned as her movement jarred her injury afresh. "Just do it quickly, Ada!"

A lance of pure agony swept through her when Hathor grasped her arm and pulled on it firmly, allowing everything to slide back into place, and she grunted and clamped her jaw tightly to bite down on the scream that tried to tear its way out of her throat. After another moment where she concentrated on nothing more complex than breathing, she looked up with a weak smile.

"The pain is mostly gone." She slipped her hand away from Artaril and reached up and felt around her shoulder gingerly, wincing at the lingering tenderness that remained. Hathor placed a hastily made sling around her neck, sliding her injured left arm into it and helping her to stand. She looked from Hathor to Artaril as she spoke.

"Breitha threw a shoe on uneven terrain and I lost my seat and went flying, landing hard on my shoulder, and my ribs are a bit sore as well. I knew right away I would be unable to ride in such a state, even if Breitha were fit, so I hunkered down here and determined to wait for someone to come for me."

She smiled up at the men and elves on horseback, then turned her gaze back to Artaril's tense face apologetically. "I am very sorry if I gave you all a scare. It's just another day in Middle-earth when catastrophe finds me." She glanced at Hathor with a helpless shrug.

"I'll lift you up, Firebrand, then mount behind you. Elegost, would you see to Ahrhî's mount, she's thrown a shoe." When Elegost murmured agreement and moved away to tend the gentle Breitha, Ahrhî tossed her leg over Candirion, her father's larger mount when he lifted her around the waist, exhaling a tired breath when Hathor mounted behind her and pulled her close so she could recline against him. She dozed lightly until Hathor quietly informed her they were ready to move. Exhausted from fighting against the pain for so long, when they began a slow walk back to Mithlond she fell into a deep and restful sleep, held securely in the comforting arms of her father.

 

* * *

 

Orophin hummed softly to himself, climbing steadily until he reached the talan where his brothers awaited him. It had been a full week since the last pack of Moria orcs had attempted to test their defenses and had died for their efforts. Since then, the patrols had been quiet, with nothing further to disturb the peace of the woods.

When Orophin reached the top of the hithlain ladder and saw his brothers, he approached in alarm, immediately sensing something was amiss with the way Haldir sat with bowed head and tensed shoulders, Rúmil seated very close beside him with troubled eyes.

"Has something occurred? Haldir, are you well?"

Haldir looked up at his brother with eyes clouded by misery, his gaze unfocused. Orophin knelt down and placed a comforting hand on his brother's rigid shoulder and looked to Rúmil for an explanation.

"It is Ahrhî," Rúmil said quietly. "Haldir is able to feel she is in much pain, and is greatly distressed by it."

Orophin looked at Rúmil in amazement. "But how can that be possible, if..."

Haldir inhaled sharply, his low voice strained and tense. "She calls out to me for aid, to ease her suffering. I must...do what I can for her, though the distance is indeed great. Lend me your strength, brothers."

Time passed slowly as the three siblings sat together, their focus on sending their comfort and light over such a vast distance. Haldir finally lifted his head, his eyes clear once more as a great sigh left him.

"Her pain fades away and no longer torments her."

Rúmil leaned closer, his face pale and eyes wide. "Haldir, she isn't…?"

Haldir shook his head emphatically. "No, she lives and even now steadily improves from whatever ailed her, do not fear further for her." _I already do enough of that as it is_ , he added silently.

Orophin listened to his brothers with a puzzled frown. "I still do not understand. You are not bonded to her, are you?"

Again, Haldir shook his head, his brows furrowed. "We are not bonded, but regardless we share a...connection, of sorts. I spoke briefly with the Lady about it when I first returned from Imladris, but I must see her again soon. There are still questions I need answers to, if she is willing to give them."

Still frowning, Orophin adjusted his cloak. "Should you not go to her, perhaps retrieve her and return her to Lórien? For it seems needless to be sundered from each other and suffer so."

"Nay, I cannot leave now, my duty lies here with the Lord and Lady. When Ahrhî is ready, she will come to me here; it has already been decided between us."

Rúmil and Orophin exchanged a surprised look, a smile growing on Orophin's face before he spoke. "Does this mean that she shall become our sister in earnest?"

Haldir looked back and forth between them, the hint of a smile softening his features. "It does. We are to be wed when she returns."

Rúmil jumped to his feet with a whoop of victory. "I told you, Orophin, did I not? I said very early on that they would end up together."

Still smiling, Orophin nodded. "You did indeed predict such an outcome, but I daresay it was more a fortunate guess than any true insight on your part."

Scoffing, Rúmil crossed his arms. "I possess remarkable insight. For Ahrhî is all passion and recklessness, while Haldir is control and severity. They must needs balance each other out. Why do you think I helped them along as I did, repeatedly?"

Haldir lifted a brow and gave his youngest brother a quelling look. "Rúmil, I suggest you cease your boasting before you incriminate yourself and draw my ire by your admissions, instead of my gratitude, as you seem to expect. I have long known you meddled where you should not."

Rúmil threw up his hands, his eyes narrowed in censure. "Very well, but you owe your happiness to my diligent interference, and one day you shall admit as much." He stalked off to the ladder and descended to the forest floor.

Orophin laughed and shook his head, endlessly amused by their youngest brother's ways. "Whether it be due to Rúmil's influence or your own will, I am greatly pleased for you and Ahrhî, Haldir. I feel certain our parents would have loved her, just as Rúmil and I do."

Haldir's face lit with a genuine smile. "Thank you, brother. You were wise in your advice to me; although I was too stubborn to fully heed it at the time, I was grateful for it nonetheless."

"You are most welcome, brother." Orophin clasped Haldir's shoulder fondly. "Shall we see little red-haired elflings running about these woods 'ere long?"

Chuckling, Haldir shook his head. "I had not made it quite so far as that in my imaginings of the future, but when we are again at peace and not harried on every side by evil, then yes, that would be a welcome occurrence."

Orophin turned to look at the distant horizon beyond the Golden Woods. "That is a future I find well worth fighting for."

 

* * *

 

**Since there are no words for grandmother or grandfather in Sindarin, this is what I went with after searching online...**

**Naneth-nana : Mother's mother**

**Naneth-ada : Mother's father**

**Gwaloth : blossom**

 

* * *

 

 

~o~


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

Sadron smiled while Ahrhî fidgeted restlessly, moving aimlessly about his workshop and fingering the various tools he used to make his creations. Turning to another table, she leaned over to examine the slender bands which lay in pairs, looking up questioningly.

"What are these, Naneth-ada?"

He lifted his head from the silver crown he was currently laboring over. "Those are bands that are often used during wedding celebrations or betrothal ceremonies; the silver for betrothal and the gold rings for bonding."

She tilted her head. "But I have never seen such rings ever worn. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel wear no such bands, and I think they have been wed forever."

Sadron laughed quietly. "Perhaps not quite forever, Ahrhî. And it is more for the ceremonial part of bonding than for long-term wear that such rings are exchanged."

She pursed her lips and nodded her understanding, then turned to face Sadron with a smile. "Lady Galadriel told me a wondrous tale about Naneth-nana and when you first met each other. Did you really love her from when you first saw her?"

His eyes softened. "I truly did. As soon as I beheld her, I knew I could never love another and my heart would always be hers."

Ahrhî smiled and sighed wistfully. "That is very romantic and deeply moving. I cannot imagine someone loving me so just from looking on me for the first time." Her brows lowered as she thought of her first meeting with Haldir, when she had been covered in dirt and blood, and how they had clashed immediately, more a violent battle of wills than any gentle exchanges of tender affection.

Sadron looked at her for a long moment, seeing much more than she realized. "You are not Árëlen, Ahrhî, and I am not… What is the name of the one you love?"

She blushed and looked down, wondering just how transparent she was. "His name is Haldir. He is Marchwarden of Lothlórien, in charge of the safety of their borders."

He nodded. "Yes, a warrior, like you. With your will and nature, your heart would never have been touched by someone whose strength was less than your own, and who you could not respect above all others. You thrive on challenge, and victory attained through your own mettle. I think Haldir must be a very strong elf to have won your love, for I'm sure it would have been much like a great battle between you."

Ahrhî blinked owlishly, her mouth open in astonishment. "How can you possibly know all this?" The more time she spent among elves, the more she came to realize that they seemed to possess a sixth sense that the other races did not.

His grey eyes danced with amusement. "I have always been able to see what personalities best complement one another. Nauriel and Rilien were a perfect match, their strengths and weaknesses balanced one another out, so too do Árëlen and I exactly suit one another, although your grandmother and I have less volatile natures than either you or your mother."

Releasing a breath, Ahrhî shook her head in wonder, her mind wandering back to Artaril in curiosity. "That is a wonderful gift. But what of Artaril? Have you never observed a match for him?"

Turning back to his work table, Sadron paused for a moment. "He has not yet met anyone who would add to his life in that way. There are some who do not feel compelled, nor have a need for that kind of love. It is possible that Artaril is such a one, as the love of his family and friends has always kept him fulfilled and content." He turned to Ahrhî with an amused look. "You desire to see him in love?"

Her brows furrowed in thought. "It's just that I feel such a...sadness from him. I would wish to see him truly happy."

Sadron drew a breath and continued working on the piece in front of him. "Your loss, and the loss of Nauriel and Rilien affected him deeply, and then Rilien's family departed for Valinor soon after." He looked at her with a sad smile. "It may be that your presence here will do more to restore his happiness than anything else ever could."

Ahrhî swallowed, her emotions conflicted about remaining in Mithlond or soon returning to Lórien, and what her responsibilities and obligations really were, leaving her feeling uncertain. Murmuring a quiet farewell to her grandfather, she slipped out of his workshop and wandered down stone streets to the edge of the sea. Sitting on the gray wall, she removed her shoes and dipped her feet into the cold water and let her mind wander.

A stately ship stood majestic in the harbor, ready to depart and carry more elves to the Undying Lands, never to return. She couldn't imagine wanting to leave Hathor or the lands she had come to love in Middle-earth, briefly wondering if Haldir had ever experienced the sea longing she had frequently heard spoken of since her arrival in Mithlond.

Her mind returning again to Artaril, she felt a restlessness at the thought of remaining indefinitely in Mithlond, merely to please him. She had never realized just how many obligations and expectations came with having a normal, extended family. With only Hathor and herself, they were as free as the wind to travel and wander, or stop and linger at a place as they chose.

She had to admit she did not have the love for the Grey Havens that she did for the wilderness or Lórien, despite the alluring beauty of the sea. How much of her love of Lothlórien had to do with Haldir's presence she could not really say, for they were entwined in her mind. Her considerable love and respect for Galadriel and Celeborn were more reason for her to cherish and long for a return to the Golden Woods.

She stood and retrieved her boots, rolling her shoulders to loosen them. Her injury had healed quite well, not even leaving a twinge behind after the kind, female healer had tended her so well. Elvish medicine was a truly powerful thing.

She had been forced to postpone her outing with Aredhel however, and while disappointing at the time, she still had that to look forward to. Perhaps she should visit the stables again soon.

Sighing, Ahrhî turned back toward the city reluctantly, dragging her feet behind her.

 

* * *

 

Artaril twirled, his twin swords whistling through the air, the loud smash of steel against steel resonating across the practice yard. He stepped back and smiled down at his young niece where she stood, red-cheeked from their vigorous sparring.

"That was well done. If you continue to improve your skills at such a rapid pace, you will far outstrip me 'ere you turn two hundred."

Ahrhî stared at him incredulously. "That's one hundred and fifty years from now, Artaril. Somehow, I fail to find that encouraging. That's forever away."

He laughed. "It is not long for an elf, Ahrhî. Indeed, not long at all, for what is time to us?"

She rested the back of her sword against her shoulder, her mouth twisted in wry amusement. "You forget that I have spent most of my life thinking I was a daughter of men, and mortal. I do not yet know how to think like an elf about the passing of time. It may take me some time to learn how."

"You are still so very young, Gwaloth." He sheathed both of his swords and reached out a hand to touch her cheek fondly. "As time flows around you, and you spend more of it among elves than men, the ways of your people will again become a part of you. You will learn much patience."

"Hmm." She sheathed her own sword and raised a brow, her doubt evident. "I suppose I will just have to take your word on it, as I can never imagine someone such as myself ever able to learn to be _patient_. Truly, I hate waiting." Her expression showed how distasteful she found the prospect.

"If I had but been able to persuade Haldir to heed me, we should have already been married by the time you joined us in Imladris. Then, he could have accompanied me here and there would have been no urgency for me to leave Mithlond to return to Lothlórien; no conflict or having to divide my heart in two."

She stared out toward the east glumly, wishing she could get on a horse and fly back to Haldir without delay, absently rubbing again at the ever-present pain in her chest.

"We must be grateful then, that your intended possessed more wisdom on the matter than you have yet acquired. If you had wed him then, you would have returned immediately to Lórien and not accompanied me here at all to renew your family bonds with my parents and myself."

She whipped her head back around to look at Artaril. "How can you say that with such conviction? Haldir knew I wanted to come and visit my family. Do you believe he would have stopped me?"

He drew a breath and shook his head. "If he loves you as you say, I'm sure he would have wanted to acquiesce to your wishes, but his honor would never have allowed it." When she began to interrupt, Artaril held up a hand to quiet her, and continued speaking. "A newly bonded pair cannot be apart so soon after joining, Ahrhî, and the position of Marchwarden comes with responsibilities that could not be set aside on a whim. Haldir is sworn to the defense of Lothlórien, and would never willingly break his vow to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel."

Looking down, Ahrhî winced, recognizing the truth of her uncle's words. Artaril rested a warm hand on her shoulder.

"You are also a warrior and understand the meaning of fealty and honor. I am sworn to Lord Círdan, and would give my life in defense of our people if it were ever required of me."

She swallowed and nodded. "You are correct, uncle. I see now that it would not have happened as I imagined it might. I suppose all occurred as it was meant to." She shot him a rueful smile.

He embraced her comfortingly, then stepped back to look at her. "Take heart, Ahrhî. It will not be so very long and you will be with your Marchwarden again."

"Take heart?" She chuckled. "My heart is no longer mine to take, but resides in far-off Lórien. Is that why it pains me constantly now, because a body requires a heart in order to live?" She glanced up, expecting to see her uncle smiling in amusement, but he was instead staring at her in concern with a furrowed brow. She touched his arm. "What is it, why do you suddenly look worried?"

He took her elbow and led her to a bench on the edge of the practice grounds and seated her next to him. "Ahrhî, these pains you have concern me greatly. When did you first notice them?"

She bit her lip and looked away from him. "I began to notice them two days after Haldir departed Imladris; why?"

Artaril stroked a soothing hand down her thick, red braid. "Perhaps it is nothing, but I would like you to go to the healer again, just to see that all is well."

Tilting her head, she nodded. "Of course, if you wish me to, but after Hathor leaves. I do not want to miss seeing the Rangers off."

"When do they depart?"

She shaded her eyes and looked to the sky. "After the midday meal. I must hurry to bathe and change now. I will see you later."

Artaril smiled as Ahrhî rushed away, but his fear for her would not be silenced.

 

* * *

 

Hathor secured the last of his belongings to Candirion's saddle, then led the stallion out of the stable, handing his reins to a fellow Ranger when he saw Ahrhî standing off to one side. Elegost kissed Ahrhî's hand, bowed and moved away to his own horse. When Hathor saw Ahrhî reach back and surreptitiously wipe her hand against her skirts, he chuckled in amusement. _Poor Elegost._

Turning at her father's approach, Ahrhî smiled, but her sadness was evident in her eyes. They stood looking at each other for a long moment, Hathor memorizing his daughter's face, never knowing if this parting might be their last. He was no longer a young man, and the wilds only grew more dangerous by the day. Nothing was ever certain.

Stepping forward, Ahrhî reached out, straightening his tunic and retying one of his leather laces to her satisfaction. Hathor stood passive, long used to the rituals she indulged in to cope with his parting.

"I stitched your spare cloak, Ada, where you tore it. Don't forget you have it as extra warmth for cold nights." She finally glanced up, tears swimming in her green eyes.

Hathor pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head, his worry and love for her nigh overwhelming. "I will not forget, iell. I always treasure your gentle care for me. But do not cry, for you know your tears unman me. Would you see me blubber here and lose all respect from my brother Rangers?"

She laughed against his chest, quickly wiping her eyes before he took her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly on her forehead, a satisfied smile on his face before he sobered and gave her a penetrating look, his eyes examining her keenly.

"Swear, Ahrhî. Give me your vow that you will not attempt to leave here and travel on your own, no matter what occurs."

Her eyes widened. "But, how can you think..."

"Give me your promise, Firebrand," he interrupted. "I will not be easy until I have it."

Her mouth twisted bitterly and she nodded with a sigh. "I vow not to leave Mithlond without an escort." She narrowed her eyes when Hathor smiled. "You and Artaril have both made me promise exactly the same thing. Why does everyone seem to think I will run away as soon as they turn their backs?"

Hathor gave her a dry look. "I cannot imagine why."

She huffed, grumbling under her breath about overprotective males, making Hathor smile widely as he leaned forward to leave a final teasing kiss on her nose.

"I love you dearly, Ahrhî, never forget it."

Throwing her arms around him again, she hugged him fiercely. "I love you, Ada. Please try to stay safe if you can."

Hathor smiled and patted her cheek, then turned and walked to his horse, mounting quickly. With a final nod, he clicked his tongue and Candirion trotted off, the other Rangers following close behind.

Ahrhî watched until they were out of sight and the thundering sound of horse's hooves had again given way to silence. The road before her seemed to beckon, making her long again for the freedom of the wilds, and she impulsively wished she had begged to go with her father.

With a pang, she turned away from temptation and started back toward her grandparent's house, heart-sore and lonelier than ever.

 

* * *

 

Artaril set his empty tea cup on the tray and paced across the room, turning to look at his parents seated together, and sighed.

"The healer believes her pain comes from a heart bond, uncompleted. What she suffers now is what he described as a very mild form of fading."

Árëlen looked at Sadron in concern. "That is most distressing. Will it worsen or what must we do, send her back to Lothlórien without delay?"

Frowning, Artaril shook his head. "Nay, he does not feel it will worsen nor that she is in any true danger. Only that as she pines, so the ache comes. I will try to see that she is kept engaged in activities she takes pleasure in, and Ahrhî has begun to enjoy a friendship with Aredhel, and spends time in the stables. That will also help distract her."

"I have been spending time with her, as well," Árëlen said quietly, "to better help her understand and control her gifts, and we have both enjoyed it immensely."

Sadron shared a long look with his wife then rose and walked to Artaril, resting a hand on his shoulder. "We will keep a close watch on her, but my son," he said gently, "you must be prepared to let her go, should it come to it. Ahrhî is not Nauriel."

Artaril looked across the room, receiving his mother's gentle smile and look of understanding, then met his father's gaze.

"I understand, Adar. I know I cannot always keep her with us, as much as I would wish to, but I will face that when it comes."

Smiling, Sadron squeezed Artaril's shoulder and then released him, heading back to his workshop.

 

* * *

 

As the weeks gave way to months, and one season passed from the next to the next, there came increasingly strange whispers on the air, a feeling of foreboding that made Ahrhî more anxious and fretful than ever. A pressing darkness from the east could even be felt along the distant shores of Mithlond. More and more elves came to take the ships West, and a new solemnity seemed to descend over everything.

 

* * *

 

Ahrhî bolted upright in her bed, a sob in her throat and the stark images of her dream still fresh in her mind's eye. Throwing back the covers, she ran from her room and raced through the quiet house until she burst out into the back garden, gasping in great gulps of the night air and sobbing into her hands, overwhelmed by what she had seen.

A gentle touch on her shoulder drew her attention, and she turned immediately to Árëlen's comforting embrace, inhaling the fragrance of fresh roses that seemed to always emanate from her grandmother. Soft fingers stroked though her hair, gradually calming her until her cries died away and the wind blew against her thin night-rail, making her shiver.

"Come inside, both of you. There is a strong chill in the air." Artaril stood in the doorway watching them with concern.

Wiping her eyes, Ahrhî allowed herself to be led back into the sitting room and smiled her thanks when Árëlen handed her a hot cup of tea. Staring down into the steaming liquid, she thought again of the dream, mulling over her emotions and looked up into the intent gaze of her uncle, who was watching her cautiously. His lips tightened and he leaned forward.

"You've seen something terrible. Tell us. We will help you if we can."

Árëlen went and sat across from Ahrhî, her hands folded in her lap and a wrinkle of concern marring her beautiful face.

Drawing a deep breath, Ahrhî began to sort through the images burning like a brand in her mind. "I saw a great battle amidst a fortress of stone. There were high ramparts, and the long wall stretched from one side of the castle straight into a mountain. There were standards of horses flying from the highest tower."

As she spoke, Artaril rose and crossed to a shelf and skimmed across several books before he pulled one out and came and sat beside Ahrhî, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

"There were men and elves fighting against evil men, as well as orcs unlike any I have ever seen. They were tall and very broad, heavily muscled..." She swallowed and closed her eyes briefly. "Hideous. And they came in wave after wave, a great host of them."

Silently, Artaril extended the book to her, and she looked down and gasped as she beheld a sketch of the very location from her dream. "Where is this place, uncle?"

"That is the great fortress of Rohan, known as Helm's Deep or the Hornburg. Strange for you to dream of such a place, yet you say there were also elves present at this battle?"

Haldir's face floated in her mind's eye and she bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, some of them I even recognized." She looked at her uncle, and she felt her resolve firm and lifted her chin. "I was also present at the battle. I must make haste to this place with all possible speed, for I feel something terrible will occur if I do not arrive in time."

Ahrhî stood and walked over and knelt before Árëlen and grasped her hands. "When I was in Lothlórien, I prayed to Eru to guide my future path and the Valar to use me against the forces of evil. I cannot help but think this is the reason I have had this dream now."

Árëlen smiled gently. "You must do as you think best, Ahrhî, nor would I try to dissuade you. The Gods do guide and direct us, if we but listen and follow." She caressed her granddaughter's cheek. "I would not love you if I tried to change who you are. You are a warrior, and when you go, it will be with my prayers and blessings."

Laying her head against Árëlen's knee, Ahrhî exhaled and closed her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

 

* * *

 

As the sun rose the following morning, Ahrhî was just finishing the last of her packing when Árëlen came in, smiling. Extending her hand, she revealed a set of gold bands. Her granddaughter stared in confusion.

"These were the bands that Sadron and I used when we wed, and your mother and father used them as well. It would fill my heart with joy for you and your mate to use them when you marry. Though we will not be there to celebrate with you, we shall be present in spirit, rejoicing in your happiness. I look forward to meeting your Haldir, in the days to come."

Overwhelmed, Ahrhî's eyes filled with tears as she accepted the beautiful rings. "Thank you, Naneth-nana, I cannot tell you how much this means to me. I shall treasure your gift."

Árëlen kissed her cheek, her eyes shining with love and turned to leave. "Artaril asked me to tell you to meet him at the practice grounds as soon as you are able."

Nodding, Ahrhî carefully placed the rings in an inner pocket of her pack and went off to find her uncle.

 

* * *

 

When Ahrhî found Artaril, he was dressed in armor she had never before seen him wear of silver and grey scale and looked quite commanding, standing just inside Mithlond's armory waiting for her. She bit the inside of her cheek, uncertain of what to say. Artaril had spoken to her very little after she had related her dream, or vision, as she had begun to think of it, and seemed rather grave.

"You wished to see me, uncle?"

He drew a breath and smiled, although it was strained. "I have something for you, Ahrhî." He led her deeper into the heart of the armory, and she marveled at the fine pieces displayed on stands around the room; hauberks, mail and helmets in abundance. The walls were lined with bows in more types of wood than she could readily identify, and swords and daggers of different sizes hung in neat rows.

Stopping before a glass case, Artaril opened it and took out a sword, extending it to her, resting flat against his palms. "Lord Círdan bid me gift this sword to you with his good wishes. It is an ancient weapon forged in Gondolin for a lady of valor, crafted by a master smith who it is said was able to imbue the blade with the essence of fire."

Wide-eyed, Ahrhî reached out and took the sword, slowly withdrawing it from the sheathe, amazed when the silver blade shone with pale color that ranged from red to orange as she slowly rotated it in the light. The pommel and grip had intricate designs that made her think of the movement of a flickering flame, and the length of the blade was inscribed in some form of tengwar she could not read. It hummed with power in her hand, much like her ring and the necklace at her throat.

"Magic," she whispered, in awe.

Artaril nodded and his lips quirked in a slight smile. "This blade is called _Êlnaur,_ which seems quite fitting since you share the name."

Shaking her head, she sheathed the beautiful sword. "Please express my gratitude to Lord Círdan. I am overwhelmed by such kindness."

"Come, there is more." They left the main armory and entered a side room that held nothing but an armor stand with a set of armor in a dark red leather, worked in the style of the elves, but not something Ahrhî had ever seen before.

"Is this.."

"For you, yes. Adar, Naneth and I had it commissioned soon after you arrived. Every warrior should have proper armor for battle."

She threw her arms around him, surprising him, but he soon returned the embrace, tightening his hold on her after a moment as his emotions overwhelmed him. She felt a shudder run through him and lifted her head to look into his eyes. They were wet with tears that spilled down his cheeks unheeded, and Ahrhî reached out to brush them gently away.

"Artaril, you need not feel obligated to go with me. I would not have you suffer...should anything happen to me."

He shook his head and looked at her with tormented eyes. "Ahrhî, I must confess something to you now; I have long wanted to. It is about the night...the night Nauriel left with you." He released her and stepped away, looking across the room at the blank wall, but Ahrhî knew that was not what he saw.

"She came to me the day before, most distraught. She told me she had a vision of Rilien and needed to go to him immediately and begged me to take her and help her recover him. She claimed he was being tortured by dark powers." He rubbed a hand against his forehead, then paced across the length of the room and back.

"Nauriel had not been herself for sometime, since Rilien left, and I tried to soothe her, to reason with her, but she would not allow it, she screamed and wailed horribly. Ahrhî..." He looked at her again with such pain in his eyes. "I thought her mind was broken. I bid her go and lie down and rest...to take one of the tonics the healers had given her, hoping she would feel better the next day."

"Then, the night she left, I had a feeling of something amiss, and thought perhaps I should go to see if she was well; to check on her. But I soon dismissed the thought as foolishness." He dropped his hands to his side and shook his head.

"I killed Nauriel," he whispered. "With my lack of belief in her vision and failure to heed my urging to protect her, I ended up causing her death." He closed his eyes, looking thoroughly defeated. "I do not expect your forgiveness, Ahrhî, but it is only right you should know the truth of what happened, and how I failed you...and her."

Ahrhî stared at him in dismay, her heart breaking for all the pain he had bottled up inside of himself, and the years he had obviously been tortured by feelings of regret and shame. She rested her sword against the wall and quickly closed the distance between them, taking both of his hands in hers. Tears ran down her face in empathy as his also continued to flow.

"Heed me, uncle," and though there was grief in her voice, it came out strong with conviction. "I dare to speak to you now not only with my voice but with the voice of my mother. You are _not_ to blame for her death, nay, not even a little. You loved her deeply, and I know you would have gladly given your life in her defense, but her choices were her own."

Artaril stared at her in surprise and disbelief as she continued.

"Further, I will say that my mother made a very poor decision, although I cannot blame her for it. Love and grief can often drive a person to desperation. I have lived enough of that in my own life to know it to be true." Reaching up, she caressed his wet cheek, her eyes pleading. "Forgive her, Artaril. Forgive yourself. And heal. I know it would grieve her to know you blame yourself, for it grieves me." She kissed his other cheek tenderly and wrapped her arms around him in comfort.

They stood that way for some time until Artaril finally stirred, and when Ahrhî searched his face anxiously, his eyes were soft with feeling and he smiled genuinely.

"Did I ever dare to say you were not wise? I was mistaken, for it is I who have been the fool. Thank you for your words, Ahrhî. I will think on them and try to heed them." Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her forehead.

"Now, we must prepare to away for battle, for evil waits for no one. Put on your armor, and I will await you outside."

Drawing a cleansing breath and shaking her head in wonder at the events of the morning, Ahrhî quickly changed into the red armor pieces, which were light, strong and fit her perfectly. Buckling on her new sword, she went to join Artaril, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

 

* * *

 

Their departure turned out to be organized chaos. Círdan had received some communication via raven which Ahrhî was not privy to, but it was decided soon after that fifty warriors were to accompany them, under Artaril's command, and they were to travel swiftly to Rohan based on her dream that there would be a great battle against evil there. When no one was bothered by the fact, she breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed elves put more faith in dreams and visions of future events than mankind, and she was very grateful for it.

When she took leave of her grandparents, it was tearful but also hopeful. Sadron's earnest words that the elves would not abide in Middle-earth much longer had her pondering, and his expectation that they would all be reunited in the not too distant future gave her courage for the fight ahead.

Artaril gave the signal and the riders surged forth, armored and armed for battle. Ahrhî took a last look at Mithlond and flicked the reins, urging Breitha forward. It was a long way to Helm's Deep, and the road beckoned.

 

* * *

**iell : daughter**

**Naneth-nana : Mother's mother**

**Naneth-ada : Mother's father**

**Gwaloth : blossom**

**Êlnaur : star fire**

* * *

 

~o~


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter** **20**

* * *

Breitha, her faithful bay that had taken her from Imladris to Mithlond, and now to Rohan, walked calmly on the rocky terrain as Ahrhî clutched the reins tighter in her hand, the Hornburg finally in sight. A large, forbidding fortress that looked well nigh impregnable; impervious to attack even. With such protection, would the men there even need or welcome their assistance? She glanced at Artaril, who gave her a reassuring smile.

"It is an arresting sight, is it not, _Gwaloth_?"

Nodding, she admired the way the mountain and the keep flowed from one into the other. The setting sun was painting the valley in pink and red hues. It all looked so peacefully still and vastly different to the images she carried in her mind.

As their horses trotted up to the entrance of the keep, an excited shout went up from the men who guarded the gate. "Elves approach! Open the gate!"

They rode into a courtyard and Artaril and his warriors dismounted while Ahrhî took another moment to look around curiously, receiving equally inquisitive looks from the Rohan men milling around, staring in astonishment.

Artaril came and lifted her down, pulling her against him in a brief, one-armed hug. They turned expectantly toward the sweeping stairwell where armored men were approaching, one attired more richly than the others, obviously their king.

Taking her hand, Artaril walked forward and they both bowed their heads respectfully before he spoke. "Greetings. I am Artaril of Mithlond, or Grey Havens as you know it in your tongue, and these are my fellow warriors and my niece, Ahrhî." He turned to look at her and she pushed her hood down her back so they could better see her. "She has had a vision of a great battle at this place and felt an urgent need to come and lend aid in this fight against evil, and I and my warriors accompany her in this with the blessing of Círdan, Lord of Mithlond."

Though he wore a look of wonder at Artaril's words, a gracious smile soon brightened the visage of the sovereign of the Rohirrim."I am Théoden, king of Rohan. Gladly, we will accept your help, with thanks."

There was a scuffle and the sound of running feet and a man and elf were rushing down the stairs to greet them. The elf she did not know, but she grinned when she recognized the man and quickly ran to him.

"Aragorn!" She threw her arms around his neck as he chuckled and patted her on the back. He examined her face before he looked beyond her at the elves in amazement.

"How came you here, Ahrhî, and these others?"

She gave him a cheeky grin. "By horse, naturally." Throwing back the one side of her cloak, she rested her hand on the hilt of her sword significantly. "We come to fight, for I believe you can make use of us."

Artaril joined them and Ahrhî took his arm and pulled him forward with a proud smile. "Aragorn, this is Artaril, my mother's brother. I have found my family since we last met in Bree, you see. Or, rather, Lady Galadriel informed me of it and summoned them. And that was after Haldir helped me kill the orcs..." She shook her head and continued. "It turns out my appearance belies my heritage. I am just a very strange looking elf after all, and not of the Dúnedain as I and Hathor supposed."

Aragorn's eyebrows rose in surprise at her disjointed explanation, while the elf beside him laughed merrily. He turned to introduce his companion. "This is Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and truly, your coming is most timely. A vast horde of orcs will be here sometime after dark falls."

Glancing back at his warriors still standing with the horses, Artaril nodded. "We stand ready to meet them."

Ahrhî bit her lip and stepped closer to Aragorn, lowering her voice. "Have no others arrived? No other elves?"

He frowned and shook his head. "No, there are no others."

She looked back down the path they had taken into the keep. "Very well. Shall we not prepare?"

Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Ahrhî thoughtfully. "You fight with us, then?" When she nodded, he continued. "With sword?"

She gestured to her horse where her other weapon was strapped to the saddle. "I also fight with bow and...with fire."

He stared at her blankly. "Fire. How so?"

Taking two steps back, Ahrhî threw her cloak behind her shoulders, leaving both arms free and extended an arm toward Aragorn and called a small ball of fire above her hand, maintaining it for several heartbeats before releasing it.

She cleared her throat self-consciously as she heard gasps and exclamations from the Rohan folk and looked at Aragorn. "It's very useful when thrown in the face of an orc, or when lighting a cluster of them on fire. It is something inherited from my mother's mother."

Aragorn tilted his head thoughtfully before moving over to Artaril to discuss how he and his warriors would fight and where their strengths could best be used.

Legolas moved closer to speak with her and looked down with a smile. "Your method of fighting sounds very unique. I look forward to observing you in battle."

She blushed and glanced down. "It really isn't very impressive, I wouldn't wish to excite your interest. I am best with my bow and secondarily, my sword. When all else fails, a ball of fire is a good diversion." Ahrhî looked up and shrugged.

He crossed his arms and smiled, turning slightly as a dwarf approached them. "This is Gimli, son of _Glóin_ , Ahrhî."

She placed a hand to her heart and bowed her head. "A pleasure to meet you, Sir Dwarf. That is a beautiful axe. Made by your people?"

He held it forward easily for her inspection. "It is indeed, lass. Are you familiar with dwarf craftsmanship?"

"Certainly! I have long been an admirer of your people's skills. I've met many dwarves in Bree, all fine folk."

Gimli beamed at her, taking in the fitted leather armor she wore and the gleaming sword at her hip. "You're quite a lovely little lass yourself. Come to join the fight?"

Ahrhî gave him a teasing smile and leaned closer to him, pitching her voice low. "Of course. I can't let you have all the fun, hmm?"

He laughed heartily just before Artaril called her away to follow him and the other elves. She lifted a hand in farewell and hurried off, leaving Gimli staring after her.

"Seems a pleasant young girl."

 

* * *

 

After stringing her bow and ensuring she had everything she needed for battle, Ahrhî sat on a bench near the back of the king's hall while Aragorn and Artaril discussed plans for the battle ahead with Théoden and his men. Since she was only a fighter and had nothing whatever to do with command or strategy, she soon lost interest in trying to follow their discussion.

She stood and wandered out into the passageway, seeing the last light of day slowly fading from blue to black. Feeling far too restless to sit still, she headed for the stairwell leading to the ramparts at the top of the keep. Walking until she found a deserted section of wall, she leaned against it and looked out, trying to make out as much of the terrain as she could in the gathering dark.

What would it be like when there were orcs as far as the eye could see? Would she be paralyzed by fear? She had never been in any great battles or wars, but if a lifetime of skirmishes were adequate preparation, then perhaps she might yet acquit herself ably and with honor.

She expected to fight alongside Artaril and his warriors, and she had every confidence in their ability to protect her, but she did not want any of them to be distracted from their own opponents by watching out for her. She decided to employ her time wisely with a bit of practice, to loosen her limbs in preparation for the night ahead, as well as to continue to accustom herself to the lighter weight of her new sword.

Walking away from the wall to give herself space, she undid the clasp on her cloak and laid it aside, leaving her clad in only her leathers. Drawing her sword, she briefly admired the pale red glow before she assumed a defensive stance, then began going through the forms that Celeborn had drilled into her, feeling a sharp surge of satisfaction as her body flowed effortlessly between stances.

As she moved, her breath came easily and she pushed herself faster and faster until she was whirling up and down the walkway, gaining on the invisible opponent she faced. With a final turn, she lunged forward and slashed her sword down, maintaining the pose while her breath calmed.

Straightening, she sheathed her sword and turned to find Legolas leaning against the wall a short distance away, watching her. Pushing away from the stone, he approached her and turned to face outward, looking on the emptiness beyond the Hornburg just as she had done previously.

"You have good form and speed."

She rubbed at the tight muscles at the back of her neck to loosen them again, then went to stand by him. "Thank you. I had a most excellent teacher. He is the finest and most skilled warrior I have known, and was ever kind and patient with me."

Legolas glanced at her curiously. "And who was your teacher?"

"Lord Celeborn," she said with a faint grin.

His brows rose in surprise. "You've spent much time in Lórien?"

She wrapped her arms around her middle; the breeze that blew had a chill. "It has been many months since I was last in Lothlórien, but I spent a very happy time there and learned much from Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn." She thought of the Lady's beautiful face and kind eyes with a smile. "I hope I may return there in the days ahead; I do miss them so."

He nodded and gazed back out into the night, which had grown black. "Tis a magical place." When he went very still and leaned further forward Ahrhî stared at him questioningly.

"Do you see something out there, Legolas?"

"Someone approaches." He narrowed his eyes slightly and watched for another moment before he relaxed and smiled broadly. "Other elves! I must go and find Aragorn."

She gripped the stone in front of her while her heart pounded in her chest.

_Other elves have come…_

For a moment, she had the urge to run and hide, but she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. What did she have to fear? She had done no wrong in coming to meet the enemy, and it might not even be Haldir. Just because she had had a glimpse of him in the vision did not mean it would be certain to happen, did it? How literal were such things? She must not allow her mind to run away with her.

Ahrhî stared in exactly the same direction Legolas had, but the darkness before her remained black and impenetrable. After a few more moments had passed, she gathered her cloak and headed back down to the lower levels, intending to find her uncle, when she heard a loud horn.

King Théoden and his men rushed down the stairs, just as they had done when she and her uncle's company had arrived. She stepped further back into the shadows and waited several moments until her heart calmed once more before slowly walking forward where she had an unobstructed view.

There were many elves, both from Lórien and Imladris from the looks of it, but her eyes sought only one elf. When she finally saw him, he was already staring at her piercingly. She drew in a surprised breath, experiencing again the shock of seeing him in the flesh as opposed to how she saw him in memory. After so many months of being parted from him, her mind just couldn't seem to truly retain the vibrancy and strength of his actual presence, nor the impact of the sharp wave of longing she felt when she saw him standing there in his armor.

Her first inclination was to dash forward and fling herself into his arms and cover his face in eager kisses, but the second was a desire to run from the censure she could already see in his gaze, so consequently, she stood very still and did nothing.

Unable to look away from Haldir, she was startled when Rúmil was suddenly in front of her, blocking her view of the Marchwarden and crushing her against him in a strong hug and laughing in delight.

"How happy I am to see you, Ahrhî! The fences have been very dull without the brightness of your fiery spirit and rousing songs." He leaned closer to whisper. "And Haldir has been more miserable then I have ever seen him. Perhaps being near you again will do something to improve his foul moods."

She reached out and squeezed his arm. "Oh, Rúmil, how I've missed you, dear brother! There has been no one to tease or torment me. Is Orophin with you as well?"

He slung an arm around her shoulders and propelled her down the stairs, dodging the organized chaos and coming and going of elves and men. "Nay, for he had to remain behind at the fences in Haldir's place."

Rúmil stopped in front of Haldir and pushed Ahrhî forward. "Look who I found lurking in the shadows, brother. I thought you would want to greet her." He walked off to give them privacy.

She stood and waited awkwardly for him to speak, and she didn't have to wait long. He wore no smile of welcome, but continued to stare at her in the same unnerving manner since she first saw him upon their arrival.

"How is it that I find you here, Ahrhî? Why have you come to this place?"

Drawing in a breath, she crossed her arms, attempting to gauge his expression. "I am here to fight, of course, just as you are. I had a dream. A vision that compelled me to come here. And no, I did not steal away in the middle of the night by myself, I am here with my uncle and his warriors, and as you can see, I am also fully clothed for this battle." She raised a brow in challenge.

There was a brief glimmer of amusement in his eyes before he reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace, his mouth against her ear. "How desperately I have missed you, my _Naurwen_. These months of separation have been long, indeed."

She smiled and laced her arms around his neck, whispering her words so only he would hear them. "The great pain in my heart has eased, Haldir, now that you hold me in your arms again."

He released her after a brief moment, aware of all the eyes on them, and examined her form in the leather armor with appreciative eyes. "Your battle attire is most becoming, as well as practical. This was made for you in Mithlond?"

She followed him as he turned and began to walk up the steps. "Yes, it was a gift from my grandparents and my uncle. An imminently useful gift, and much appreciated." She was thinking how much better it suited her than gowns of velvet and satin, and when she glanced over to meet Haldir's gaze, she could see from his smile that he knew where her mind had wandered.

"Perhaps you might also keep a few of your lovely gowns as well, for my future benefit," he murmured, making her laugh.

Artaril stood at the head of the stairs, awaiting their approach, and Haldir greeted him.

"Marchwarden, it is good to see you again, and heartening to have so many skilled and experienced elves added to the numbers here." He gave his niece an amused and fond look. "I see Ahrhî's steps are also much lighter since your arrival."

Haldir also turned to look at Ahrhî, albeit with a different thought. "I don't suppose you could be persuaded to wait in safety elsewhere until after this battle?"

Artaril suppressed a smile when Ahrhî crossed her arms and stared coldly. "You would have to tie me and gag me, Haldir, and even then," she added with a sly grin, "I would just burn through the ropes."

Coughing to cover a laugh, Artaril gave him a sympathetic look. "It is perhaps easier to navigate a river's capricious currents by flowing with it, rather than struggling against it."

Haldir lifted an enigmatic brow and sighed, extending a hand to Ahrhî. "Come, walk with me for a few moments."

Shooting a quick smile at her uncle, she slipped her hand into Haldir's and allowed him to lead her into the keep, where he steered her down a quiet hall mostly removed from the throng and released her hand, giving her a long look.

"You've kept up with your training, both bow and sword?"

She unsheathed her sword and held it up to the light to give him a clear view. "Yes, I sparred often with the Rangers while they remained in Mithlond." She frowned, briefly remembering all the uncomfortable moments trying to evade Elegost's interest and shook her head and continued. "Artaril has been training with me since then, and Lord Círdan gifted me with this beautiful sword before we departed to come here."

Taking the sword from her hand, Haldir gave it a couple of practice swings then returned it to her. "A truly fine sword, and a perfect weight for you. You will stay with Artaril and his warriors during the battle?"

Ahrhî nodded, wondering what his aim was with all the questions he was asking. But when he placed his hands on her shoulders and stepped close, her thoughts went scattering away as she gazed into eyes the color of a cloudless sky. He searched her face gravely.

"Stay close to your uncle at all times, and do not take unnecessary risks. Keep awareness of your surroundings so you are not taken unawares, from behind or otherwise."

Nodding dutifully, Ahrhî stared up into his eyes. "Haldir?"

"Yes?" He shifted closer to her.

"I love you. Do not worry for me so."

He smiled and shook his head, caressing her cheek gently. "It is because I love you that I cannot keep from worrying. Will you heed my words?"

"I promise," she said quietly, and he kissed her, softly and tenderly in their very brief, stolen moment.

 

* * *

 

Less than an hour had passed since the elves arrival, but much had happened swiftly and soon saw all the elven defenders standing at their posts along the Deeping Wall under Aragorn's command, and the king's nephew, Éomer, who commanded Rohan's men. King Théoden stood atop a parapet on the highest rampart, affording he and his advisers an excellent view of the entire field of battle.

Ahrhî was amongst her uncle's company as had been decided previously, at the furthest point from the main part of the keep, along the Deeping Wall. They all held their bows and wore quivers of arrows, and had swords, daggers or short-swords in sheaths for instant readiness when hand to hand combat would be required.

While able to see the top of Haldir's silver hair, not much more of him was visible from her vantage point. She would have preferred to be closer to him, but understood the responsibilities of leadership he bore, which prevented her from being allowed to stand beside him while they fought.

The air practically vibrated with the tension and anticipation of violence, which every minute drew inexorably closer. Ahrhî paced nearer to the wall, wishing again her vision could penetrate the darkness, when a jagged bolt of lightning lit the sky as bright as day. She gasped as a mass of large, black creatures were briefly revealed moving in the far distance.

She almost wished to hurry the orcs along, finding the interminable waiting wearing away at her dwindling reserves of patience. As the occasional sprinkle of rainwater hit her face, she sighed and turned to look back along the wall toward the keep. There were men and elves standing on every available space along the wall, waiting with seeming calm for either death or victory. Watching them, she felt a surge of pride at the great courage on display and smiled to be standing among them.

"It is well to see a smile on your fair lips this night." Rúmil came to stand next to her, his bow in his hand as he looked beyond the wall then down at her with a slight smile. "As a reminder of all we fight for."

She squinted up at him as droplets of rain fell softly, grinning. "You fight for the smiles of maidens?"

His smile faded and he stared at her intently, searching her eyes. "I fight for family, for love, for home..." He looked back toward the keep, where Haldir stood talking with Aragorn and Legolas. "I fight for all the noble peoples of Middle-earth."

Ahrhî wrapped her free arm around him in a hug, briefly laying her head against his chest. "We fight for the same things, brother." She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "Now, speak truly, did Haldir tell you to come and watch over me?"

He laughed quietly, shooting her an amused look. "You already know the answer, Ahrhî."

Releasing him from her hug, her lips tightened. "You needn't trouble yourself, I shall be well."

He patted the top of her hair, some of his usual teasing habits asserting themselves. "In truth, I asked to come and fight beside you before he could ask me to. Not because I do not trust you to defend yourself, but for the certainty I have that Haldir will not make his own safety a priority if he is distracted by worry for you."

She looked down, her heart rising to her throat, never having considered that her presence alone might truly endanger the one person she wanted protected above all others. Distressed, she leaned closer to the wall to see around the other elves, finding Haldir looking out toward the enemy approaching, his handsome face in profile.

Blowing out a breath, she stepped back, running her thumb along the top of her bow. There was nothing more to be said; she would do her utmost to fight wisely and well, as she had no desire to come to harm, indeed, she had much to live for. But was she prepared for death, should that be her fate?

Looking out on the vast host that was becoming more visible with each passing moment, she wondered how different everything might be if she had made other choices and been set on a divergent path. What if her parents had not been lost to her, and she had grown up a gentle and protected maiden? She chewed her lip thoughtfully, unable to even imagine herself in such a way.

No, she was who she was because of the actions she had taken. Celeborn's words came back to her about not being herself if she were other than she was. She must be faithful to herself, which was why she had come to this battle. Life would not be worth living if she denied her very nature. She finally felt... _happy_ with who she was; with what she was. Her steps had taken her here, and if death became the next part of the journey, then so be it, she had no regrets.

A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, drawing her from her thoughts. She smiled up at her uncle. He looked out toward the open field then down at her, his eyes searching hers. "Are you frightened, _Gwaloth_?"

She placed her own hand atop his in an answering caress. "Of course." She lowered her hand again. "But I do not regret being here. Thank you for trusting me, uncle. For allowing me to do this."

Artaril was quiet for a moment. "After your mother...I could not do otherwise. I'm proud of you, Ahrhî Êlnaur, beloved child of my sister. We face the battle ahead together, as kin ought."

She blinked quickly, to forestall the tears that had gathered at his words, turning her head to look up at him and smile her love and gratitude.

Another jagged bolt of lightning fractured the sky, and the heavens opened in earnest, rain pouring down and partially obscuring the orcs which were close enough for their growls and jeers to be heard.

Ahrhî's lip curled in disgust as she took in the differences between these orcs and the common ones she was accustomed to. These Uruk-hai, as she had heard them named, were nearly twice the size and seemed far more fierce, with sharp teeth that looked animalistic, able to easily tear through flesh. Some of them were heavily armored, while others wore nothing more than boots and loin cloth, in addition to their weapons.

She shuddered and allowed the sudden wave of terror to flow through her but not paralyze her, as she beheld the seemingly endless sea of orcs. Lifting her bow higher, she stroked its familiar length, finding the action calming.

Aragorn's shouted command to prepare to fire saw all the defenders draw arrows and nock them, then wait for the command to pull back and release. Rainwater dripped down her nose and chin, soaking into her leather, and making her fleetingly wish she had the power to silence the storm. Instead, she focused on singling out a target from among the front lines of the enemy, keeping her eyes locked on a painted orc, his bare chest an ideal target.

When the order came to shoot, she smiled grimly as her arrow landed true, killing the monster. She quickly fell into a rhythm of drawing and releasing her arrows, the noise of the pounding rain and the war-drums of the orcs creating a savage music, punctuated by battle cries and the guttural yells and screams of the fallen.

Time blurred into numb repetition as she continued to fire arrow after arrow, refilling her quiver for the third time when the warning came for ladders, followed by the order to draw swords. The metal ladders made loud thunks against the stone as they struck against it.

Artaril pulled her back as the first orc popped up and came over the wall, Rúmil stepping forward to engage him. She found a spot furthest away from the ladders with her back against the stone, and continued to use her bow to support the warriors engaged in sword battle, preventing any surprise attacks on them by orcs attempting to ambush them from behind.

When her quiver was again emptied, she looked around, searching left and right trying to locate more arrows, finally spying a full container further down the wall toward the keep. When she glanced back toward her uncle, she gasped. Rúmil was engaged with a large orc and did not see the smaller orc sliding up the ladder, his focus trained on the elf's back.

With no arrows, she screamed his name and reached her hand toward the orc, a tongue of lightning arcing from the orc on the ladder to the one Rúmil fought, killing them both.

Relieved he was no longer in immediate danger, an angry roar had her spinning quickly, discarding her bow and drawing her sword to meet the charge of an enormous Uruk. Several other orcs bore down on her to try and overwhelm her, their attention drawn from her yell and the lightning strike, apparently determined to eliminate her as a threat.

She feinted to the side and slashed at the leg of the Uruk, feeling a small lick of panic as the others drew near. Throwing a ball of fire into her enemy's face, she slashed her sword across his neck, severing his head and sending it flying against the wall.

When she met the sword of the next closest orc, parrying his strike, she saw the others around her fall, then the one in front of her, an arrow in his back. Looking beyond the fallen orc, she saw Legolas grin, shout a number, then turn to find a new target.

She frowned in bewilderment, wondering if Legolas used some sort of number code in battle, then mentally shrugged. Her eyes wandered over the fight raging along the wall, Haldir engaged in sword battle a ways beyond her.

Aragorn yelled a warning as a fresh wave of orcs poured over the walls from more ladders. Ahrhî gathered another batch of arrows and refilled her quiver, then yelped and rolled across the stone floor, narrowly avoiding being impaled on the blade of a berserker. She ran several steps, then turned, needing space to maneuver properly.

"I'm going to drink your blood, woman." His guttural voice was like claws against her ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. His beady eyes goaded her as he stuck his tongue out, thrusting it at her lewdly.

Ignoring his taunt, she gripped her sword with both hands to give her strikes more power and glared, waiting for him to move. He charged, swinging wildly with his enormous sword. She dodged, her boot loosing traction on the slick stone and slid, hurriedly turning the fall into a roll and springing to her feet again. The tip of his blade found purchase on the leather covering her right thigh, slicing it open.

Rúmil yelled from behind the orc, slashing his blade across the creature's shoulder and drawing his attention, while Ahrhî darted forward, shoving her sword through his unprotected abdomen. Grunting, she shoved the orc backward, pulling her blade free and bent over to examine the cut on her leg.

Taking her arm, Rúmil guided her further away from the ladders, pulling her to one of the stairwells leading down from the wall and quickly pushed her to sit on the steps, seating himself beside her as he grasped her leg to examine it.

"It's just a shallow cut, Rúmil, I'm fine. I can still fight."

He reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out a small container, dabbing a clear ointment over the slashed skin and giving her a quelling look that was so like Haldir it made her blink in surprise.

"Be still and breathe, the battle is not going to go anywhere while I tend you."

She licked her dry lips and watched him. "What is that you put on me? It stings."

He smiled. "It's magic. It will keep the wound from bleeding until it can be properly wrapped later. Here." He handed her a canteen of water from among several sitting at the top of the steps.

They both slaked their thirst, then Rúmil rose and drew his sword again, Ahrhî quickly doing the same. Looking back toward the keep she gazed at Haldir steadily dispatching orcs as they came over the wall, his movements controlled and precise.

Rúmil sprinted back toward the front of the line where Artaril and his elves battled, Ahrhî turning to follow, when the wall vibrated ominously and the stone split, pieces of rock tearing like parchment and launching skyward, scattering elves and men with the force of the powerful blast.

Ahrhî lay on her back, blinking in astonishment and confusion before struggling to her feet, shocked at the breach that lay open just beyond her. Orcs slowly began to come through the gap, and she scanned desperately, trying to locate Haldir but not able to see him. She finally spotted his crimson cloak, gasping when she saw he lay chest down, some distance from the wall, unmoving.

"Rúmil, it's Haldir!" She screamed over her shoulder, already running. Sprinting down the stairwell, she took the steps two at a time and leapt to the ground. Ahrhî stumbled across the uneven terrain, jumping over chunks of rock and sliding across mud left behind by the rain.

Reaching his side, she extended a shaking hand and brushed silver strands of his hair off his face. Fear gripped her heart in a vice. Although there was no visible blood, she did not have time to ascertain if he was injured, only that he was still breathing.

The orcs roared and shrieked in triumph as they clambered through the breach in the wall, bearing down on her location. Drawing her sword, she took a guarding position in front of Haldir, determined that none of the enemy would reach him.

Time seemed to slow as she logically considered the scene before her. There were simply too many. Were there three of her, it would still not be enough to fend them off with sword alone, but perhaps…

Sheathing her sword, she took another step forward and lifted both arms, drawing a fortifying breath, her ring and pendant bathing her in pale blue light as the power gathered. A ten foot wall of flame slowly expanded in front of her and she pushed it forward with a grunt of effort, lighting orcs on fire and causing panic as they ran back through the gap in an attempt to escape the wave of fire chasing them.

Aragorn shouted for a retreat, and she saw her uncle and his warriors still remained on the far end of the wall. Would they have time to make it before the orcs came through the gap again and cut them off? The fire dissipated as she tired and lost her concentration.

Haldir grabbed her arm, alert and back on his feet, holding his sword again while blood dripped from a wound across his left arm. "Come, Ahrhî, we must make for the keep."

Glancing back up to where Rúmil and her uncle were working their way toward them, she looked at Haldir.

"We cannot yet leave, they need more time to reach safety."

Haldir glanced up and nodded. "Go. I will stay and cover their retreat."

She shook her head stubbornly. "No, I won't leave you here alone to defend them. I can still fight..." She staggered suddenly and fell to the ground with a cry of pain, a short, black arrow protruding from the lower half of her left leg.

Haldir jerked Ahrhî to her feet, then threw her across his left shoulder, leaving his sword arm free. He ignored her shriek of outrage, doubting there was any other way to get her to the keep in one piece. He was beyond the point of letting her argue with him and continue to stand there and take chances, openly flirting with disaster. If he had to force her obedience, then so be it.

She sputtered indignantly. "Haldir! Haldir, put me down!" The only response she received was a pronounced tightening of his arm across her legs. He ran with her across the muddy ground, his armor digging into her belly with each step. She braced one hand against his back, and pushed herself up enough to see behind them.

Haldir stabbed an orc then kicked him away to clear their path, pausing briefly to behead another. Ahrhî pulled up his red cloak and removed his small dagger from his belt. If he insisted on carrying her in such a ridiculous fashion that prevented any attempt at fighting on her part, she could at least protect his back.

He headed for the stairs leading toward the keep, and affording her a full view of the many Uruk-hai again coming through the breech in the wall. Other elves followed, trying to reach the keep before they were overwhelmed, Artaril and Rúmil among them. She threw the dagger at the closest orc, but her aim was off and she grazed his throat but didn't kill him, he kept coming.

She briefly closed her eyes and grit her teeth to focus as best she could under the circumstances, then lifted her arms, her ring and pendant vibrating against her skin and the blue light shining bright once more. She called again to the fire within her, burning the enemies chasing them, then once again raising a barrier of flames across the entire breach in the wall.

The wild-eyed reaction of the Uruks might have even been comical in any other situation, were their own predicament not so dire. She kept her complete focus on maintaining the flames to secure as much time as possible for the retreat, trembling violently with the effort; far more difficult than anything she had ever attempted before.

Haldir stumbled on the steps before recovering his footing, unprepared for the onslaught of raw energy that flowed from Ahrhî's body into his own. He had never before been in physical contact with her when she used her gifts, and the effects were staggering.

At the top, Aragorn was urging the final stragglers through the door so it could be barricaded against the advancing horde. When the last of her uncle's company, along with Rúmil and several other Lórien elves were all finally through the door, Ahrhî released the fire barrier, going limp from pain, weakness and fatigue. She slumped over Haldir's back right before he pulled her from his shoulder and set her on her feet, where she immediately crumpled to the floor, sliding down the wall and closing her eyes.

At a sudden increase in the pain in her leg, she hissed and jerked, her eyes flying open to see Haldir had removed the black arrow. He picked her up and carried her deeper into the keep, taking her to where other wounded were being tended.

He placed her down on a cot and straightened, Rúmil coming to stand next to him. "Haldir, Ahrhî will be fine until a healer can come. You need to see to your own wound now, and then help me with mine."

He opened his mouth to protest but Ahrhî cut him off. "Look after your arm, stubborn elf. You're hurt much worse than I am, and I have a vested interest in your recovery."

Haldir stared down sternly at her. "We will shortly be discussing the disobedience which directly led to your arrow wound, Ahrhî."

She lifted a hand and waved it at him in acknowledgement. "Yes, yes, you can growl and berate me to your heart's content, but _after_ you receive care."

He frowned and hesitated before moving across the room, beginning to remove his armor. "Mouthy woman."

Rúmil snickered when she caught his eye. She lifted a brow at the disgruntled elf. "But you like my mouth, Haldir."

Artaril stuck his head into the room, his eyes locking onto his niece. "Ahrhî, are you well?"

She smiled to reassure him and nodded, finally beginning to feel the full brunt of the pain in her lower leg and the cut on her thigh as the adrenaline from the battle wore off.

"I'm fine, only a couple of minor injuries. Mostly, I'm just fatigued. That was a lot of fire."

He nodded sympathetically. "Then I shall return to the battle and find you again later."

He strode off and she stared after him with a frown, wishing she hadn't managed to get herself wounded while the battle still raged. What if they desperately needed more fighters? Perhaps if her left leg were tightly bound..."

"You are not going back out there, _Naurwen_ , don't even consider it. I forbid it."

She tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling with a tired sigh, before she was arrested by the sight before her. Haldir had removed not only his armor, but everything underneath it in a bid to reach the entirety of the angry gash that went from his bicep to his forearm. He sat on a cot opposite her, entirely bare from the waist up, while Rúmil cleaned the wound.

The last time she had seen Haldir's bare chest and arms was their time in the woods, and she had been far too flustered to really enjoy the sight. Now, she had nothing else to do but stare at the elf who looked like he had been carved out of warm skin and muscle. And the months she had spent apart from him in Mithlond were very long, indeed. Oh, what wouldn't she do to feel his lips against hers again as she had so briefly before the battle.

She leaned back, supporting her weight with her hands and let her eyes run over his arms; the bulge and shift of his brawn there, and across his defined chest and the chiseled ridges of his abdomen, her eyes briefly dropping even lower. Though it had been many months since the last experience, she well remembered what it felt like to be intimately pressed against that chest, and how tightly those arms had held her.

"If you continue in that way, _Naurwen_ , you're going to invite an entirely different kind of attention from me," Haldir murmured, shooting her an intense look.

She smiled faintly and tilted her head. "Are you saying that if I were the one sitting here bare from the waist up, that you would not look at me in such a way? What's good for the goose is good for the gander, and so forth."

Rúmil choked on a laugh and turned shocked eyes to her before staring accusingly at his brother. "Haldir! What have you done to her?"

He pursed his lips and continued to stare at Ahrhî, his expression brooding. "A better question would be to ask what has she done to me."

A healer finally swept into the room, putting an immediate end to the conversation, much to Rúmil's relief.

 

* * *

 

Aragorn walked among the wounded, stopping to speak to man and elf alike, inquiring after their injuries and lending help where he could. He finally came to the small room where Ahrhî and Haldir and several other elves were installed.

He smiled and nodded to where Ahrhî lay curled up with hair splayed across the small cot, one of Haldir's hands clutched in her own, and his cot pushed close to hers, with him sitting propped against the wall behind him.

"She sleeps?"

Haldir looked down on her with a faint smile. "She was fair drained from her efforts during the battle and may yet sleep for the rest of the day."

"I'm awake, Haldir," came her groggy voice as her eyes opened slowly. She looked up at Aragorn and smiled. "I thought I heard we were victorious, or did I just dream that?"

He chuckled. "It was no dream, we did indeed prevail when Gandalf arrived with more warriors and broke their lines, and then there were also the Huorns."

Ahrhî sat up and listened in rapt fascination as Aragorn briefly related what had happened after she and Haldir had retired from the battle to tend their wounds.

She smiled in wonder. "I can scarce believe it, there were so many of those creatures..."

He crossed his arms and looked back and forth between them. "I must thank you both for your valorous deeds during the battle. You saved many lives with your actions, particularly during the retreat to the keep."

She ducked her head, her cheeks coloring in embarrassment at the unexpected praise. Haldir's fingers tightened minutely on hers.

"Ahrhî and I were glad to lend our aid to the people of Rohan, and proud to fight beside you, Aragorn."

The Ranger inclined his head then turned his regard to the redhead. "Little did I know what a fierce warrior you were, Ahrhî, when you first approached me in Bree."

She grinned up at him. "Yes, I'm sure you thought me more fool than fighter when we met. I likely was."

He shook his head, a kind smile brightening his countenance. "No, my friend, not a fool, but there is certainly much more to you than was readily apparent on first acquaintance."

Aragorn eyed their joined hands and smiled more widely at Haldir, a twinkle in his eyes. "May I wish you both great joy in your future together."

"Thank you, Aragorn," she said with a glace at Haldir.

Haldir nodded with a small smile."Be well, Aragorn."

Aragorn bowed and turned to leave, stopping briefly at the doorway. "And Ahrhî, I quite appreciated your fire in battle. Most useful." With a final smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes and a nod, he left.

 

* * *

**gwaloth: blossom**

**Naurwen: fire maiden**

* * *

 ~o~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a Helm's Deep scene for this story over 7 years ago, but waffled on whether to delete it all and stick more with the books, or use Peter Jackson's fan fiction version of events for my own purposes. When I decided to have Ahrhî go to Mithlond, I chose to use my own interpretation of movie events as a device to get her back to Haldir, although I rewrote and reworked the scene many times before I was (somewhat) satisfied. There is one part in it that I always left unchanged through all the rewrites though, as I and my adult daughter loved it too much to give it up. Can you guess what it was? :)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold! An update! Ahrhî and Haldir are finally speaking to me again.
> 
> In case anyone was curious about which scene I kept in the Helm's Deep battle that I mentioned in the previous chapter, it was Haldir hauling Ahrhî to safety over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, while she tries to do her best to fight in spite of hanging upside down.
> 
> I've finally made it through the part of this tale I was blocked on and I'm already 4 pages into Chapter 22, so hopefully the time between updates will be shorter, and we are getting fairly close to the end of this story now, I think. Thanks for following along and to those of you who've taken the time to comment.

The day after the battle dawned in a mix of cloud and sun that bathed the landscape in alternating shades of gold and gray. The clean-up continued apace, although the keep and battlefield beyond still boldly proclaimed the death and struggle that had taken place there.

All the elves were making ready to depart, Artaril and his warriors back to Mithlond, and those with Haldir back to their respective realms of Imladris and Lórien. In gratitude for the great assistance rendered by the elves in the battle, King Théoden had offered the lending of mounts to allow a swift return to their home kingdoms, and Haldir had accepted.

His wound was still healing, and with Ahrhî, Rúmil, and many others sporting various similar injuries, the use of mounts would ease some of the discomfort of their journey. He had a pressing feeling of urgency that they were needed in Lórien, and wished to fly as quickly as they were able. The goodbyes with Ahrhî's uncle were subdued, but hopeful.

"Thank you for everything, uncle. I will look forward to the day I am reunited with you, Naneth-nana and Naneth-ada."

He pulled her into a gentle hug, then kissed her forehead. "May the Valar watch over your path as you travel, _Gwaloth._ We shall also look to the day of your coming again to Mithlond." He turned to Haldir and clasped him on the shoulder. "I entrust Ahrhî to your care, Marchwarden, and that of your brothers," he said, his gaze sweeping Rúmil as well.

Haldir met Artaril's eyes with firm resolve. "Her happiness and well-being is of utmost importance to us." Rúmil nodded in silent agreement, and Haldir continued. "And I swear to cherish and protect her with my life, always." After another moment, Artaril smiled and released his grip on Haldir.

Ahrhî sighed in quiet exasperation but refrained from comment, long used to the innate need the males in her life seemed to have to coddle and protect anything female around them. She had finally learned to appreciate the deep feelings underlying such actions, but a tiny part of her still resented the implication she couldn't truly look out for herself.

After Artaril and his warriors galloped away, it was not long before Ahrhî, Haldir, and the other remaining elves did the same. Haldir hoped to cover as much ground as possible, and they even rode well into the night before stopping for rest.

* * *

Ahrhî finished attending to Breitha and setting her picket line for the night, then half walked, half hobbled her way to sit beside the fire that Sîrion, one of the Imladris elves, had started. The night was bright with stars, but the wind still blew crisp and cool. She pulled her cloak tight about her, glancing up with a smile when Haldir came and knelt in front of her.

"If you remove your boot, I will attempt to further the mending that the last healer began on the arrow wound that still plagues you."

She frowned. "You need not trouble yourself on my account, Haldir. My wound does not bother me and can finish healing on its own."

He raised his brows, clearly not about to be put off. Pulling the boot from her injured leg and well on his way to unwrapping the bandage, he finally glanced up.

"If it does not bother you, pray explain why you are limping about since we stopped for rest?"

She leaned nearer him and lowered her voice to a whisper so none of the other elves would hear. "That would be due to the discomfort in my backside from riding. If you would care to lay hands on me there for the purpose of healing, I shall gladly accept your attentions."

Haldir raised his head and met her eyes for a long moment, then bent once more over her leg, a bright glow coming from his hands as he set to healing her leg. He finally lowered his hands when her skin was smooth again and no longer marred.

"There is no more need to wrap it, as the wound is closed now and the surrounding flesh mostly returned to normal."

"Thank you, Haldir." She finished righting her leggings and replaced her boot while he came and settled beside her, leaning close and dropping his voice to a low whisper.

"I notice your magic no longer escapes you at my touch. No lightning, no wind..."

Ahrhî lifted a brow and smiled with a shrug. "I have much better control, after both Lady Galadriel and my Naneth-nana's lessons. I daresay nothing can force any of my elemental powers from me now, only if I will it."

"Hmm." He sat back with a musing expression. "More control where your powers are concerned can only be a positive thing."

Rúmil came and sat near them, sharing out portions of food, then they all ate together. "I saw you speaking with Legolas before we departed, Ahrhî. I was not aware you were acquainted with the prince."

She dusted off her hands and shot Rúmil a curious look. "Legolas is a prince? I only met him and the dwarf, Gimli, on the day of the battle, through Aragorn, who I was previously acquainted with during my time in Bree."

Haldir nodded. "His father is King Thranduil, who rules the many Silvans of Greenwood the Great, now known as Mirkwood."

Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around her knees. "There's an elven _king_? I have never heard of this. The Lords Elrond, Celeborn, and Círdan do not go by such grand titles, so why would this Lord Thranduil?"

Rúmil sprawled out more comfortably on the grass. "His father, King Oropher, ruled before he fell in battle, then his son inherited the realm and title. The population of elves in Greenwood is far and away greater than any other settlement of elves in Middle-earth, enough to be a true kingdom, I suppose." He looked at Ahrhî and gestured to his elder brother. "Haldir has been there in years past and has long known the king, queen and prince."

Ahrhî looked at Haldir and smiled. "What is this elf king like, Haldir? Is he kind and merry like his son?"

Haldir chuckled and shook his head ruefully. "Nay, he is quite different to his son. Exceedingly proud, with a rather volatile temper, yet I daresay he is also wise."

"So, he is just like you?" she said in jest, leaning against his shoulder. "I think I should like him if that be the case."

Taking her hand in his, Haldir smiled, giving her a sidelong look. "Actually, it is perhaps a bit humorous you should say that, as his queen is a human woman from some far distant land, though she is not mortal like others of her kind and has some strange magic of her own. He is devoted to her."

Gasping, Ahrhî stared at him in astonishment. "Legolas is half _human_? I should never have thought it from his appearance!"

Rúmil laughed, leaning up on one of his elbows "Nay, Ahrhî. The prince's mother was an elf, and perished sometime earlier in this age. I believe King Thranduil has only been married to Queen…?" He looked questioningly at his brother.

"Elizabeth," Haldir finished. "I suppose it is..." his brow furrowed in thought. "Perhaps sixty years or so they have been wed."

Ahrhî shook her head. "I think Mirkwood sounds vastly different to Lórien, in a great many ways."

Lacing his hands behind his head, Rúmil lay down again. "I could not tell you as I have never been there. Only Haldir has traveled so far and wide across Middle-earth. This is the first time I have ventured beyond the Golden Wood."

Standing to his feet, Haldir held his hand out to Ahrhî. "Let us walk a bit before we rest."

Placing her hand in his, she eagerly followed him beyond the light of the fire and into the trees some fair distance away from the other elves. The moon was just beginning to rise, its deep, buttery yellow color casting a bright glow on the few leaves of the trees they stood among.

Haldir took her in his arms, and she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest, sighing with contentment. She grinned up at him.

"I almost wish we were forced to share a horse for the journey back, Haldir, just so I could be closer to you."

He lowered his head, nuzzling against her cheek and kissing the tip of her pert nose. "I think it likely for the best that we not ride together. Having you pressed intimately against me for hours on end, forced to feel your lovely curves and smell your sweet scent, all while unable to kiss you or taste you…"

She shivered at his words, making him smile. "That would likely be a greater test to my will than I should be able to meet, _Naurwen_. I wish to wed you properly in Lórien, not somewhere in the wilds due to a lack of control on my part."

She ran her lips against the side of his neck teasingly. "You may wed me right now and I assure you, I should have not the least objection."

Lacing his fingers into her unbound, red curls, he tilted her head back with gentle pressure, his eyes burning into hers with sharp intensity. "Nay, Ahrhî. When I join my body to yours there will be no time constraints upon us nor any others nearby. I shall worship you endlessly, and encourage you to be as loud and free in your response as you like."

She sucked in a shaky breath, digging her fingers into his shoulders where her hands rested. "If you continue to speak to me in such a way, I think I shall catch fire from the burning ache you have begun inside of me."

He gave her a predator's smile and lowered his head and kissed her, all the months they had spent apart driving them quickly into passion with eager tongues and quickened breaths. Haldir's hands wandered from her hair around to her breasts, caressing and kneading and drawing quiet moans from Ahrhî.

In a daze, she found her back pressed against a tree before Haldir reached down and lifted her against him. Automatically, she wrapped her legs around his waist, gasping as he ground himself against the apex of her thighs while his teeth gently scraped against a nipple through the fabric of her tunic. She whimpered at his tender torture against her breasts which was soon joined by the rhythmic movement of his hardness pressed against her through the thin barrier of their clothing, which was hitting just such a dizzyingly pleasurable spot…

Swiftly pulling her mouth back to his, Haldir muffled her involuntary moans and prevented her loud cry with his lips as she shuddered and trembled in the grip of her climax, so caught in the overpowering strength of it, she hardly noticing when Haldir groaned with a similar reaction to her own, finally stilling against her. He pressed soft kisses to her cheeks and lips while their breathing returned to normal.

Opening her eyes, she met his smugly satisfied ice blue gaze and smiled in sudden shyness over what they had just shared, her cheeks coloring becomingly. Moving his hands to fully cup her bottom, her eyes widened when she felt the heat of Haldir's healing and snorted a laugh.

"Are you healing me? After _that_? I think it hardly necessary now; I feel like I am floating."

He smirked and kissed her. "You are mine to care for in every way, _Naurwen_. I think you shall now have a very deep and restful sleep and wake refreshed."

Haldir lowered her to her feet, keeping a hold on her waist when she wobbled unsteadily and tightened her grip on him. She wrinkled her nose and smiled up at him. "Perhaps we should stay a while longer here. My legs are not yet functioning normally, Haldir. That was...that...I..." She sighed gustily and hid her face against his firm chest. "Words fail me."

He chuckled and stroked a hand through her curls. "Shall I carry you to camp in my arms, beloved?"

Ahrhî pulled back to look at him with a gasp. "I think I must walk, or else it may be apparent what type of activity we have been engaged in."

Haldir shrugged with a look of complete unconcern, tucking a curl behind her ear. "When we marry, all will know without a doubt what activities we have engaged in. I hardly think it matters what others may speculate now."

She sat down and leaned against the obliging tree behind her and tugged at him until he also sat down and pulled her against him.

"Let us rest here a while longer under the night sky. I wish for no company but yours this night, Haldir." Ahrhî pressed a kiss to his chin and smiled up at him when he wrapped his arms around her. "Sing to me?"

"If you like," he murmured, kissing her hair. "Did you wish a particular song?"

She shook her head. "Anything at all, I just long to hear your voice. All the months we were apart, I imagined the sound of your voice speaking to me or singing, and only then was I able to find sleep. Let us avoid any more partings. I do not think I care to experience another long separation from you."

He laced their fingers together, pleased that she felt as he did about wanting to always be together in the days ahead. "I am glad to hear you say this, as it is my intention to never again permit you to leave my side, Ahrhî. Recall, I told you in Imladris to enjoy those small freedoms you were allowed to indulge in previously. Your solitary wandering days are now done, and all your tomorrows shall be mine."

She rolled her eyes and stifled a yawn, but offered no comment. Surely he didn't expect her to take such an edict without offering even the slightest protest? She was coming to believe he liked to provoke her, for the thrill he seemed to derive from persuading her to submit.

Leaning his head back to rest against the trunk of the tree, Haldir gazed up at the stars and began to sing quietly. His arms tightened further around Ahrhî when she relaxed more fully into him, drifting off into a peaceful sleep while he sang.

Hön'marën kena-uva kala

_(My heart shall see light)_

Indönya ullumeá

_(Our hearts shall be forever)_

~o~

Nör'ande sëra mi lorien

_(Go forth, rest in dreamland)_

îm'eri ratö naya

_(I'll soon be there)_

~o~

Larya nîn mëlissè

_(Wait for me, my love)_

Le sinte îma sinomë

_(You know I'm here)_

~o~

ána sama lemî oloorë

_(To join you in dreams)_

Le ar'uunèr ana kaurë

_(You have nothing to fear)_

~o~

Uur'anor wannëa

_(Fiery sun, begone)_

Isilme va'arya

_(Moonlight, protect us)_

~o~

Telume siila tere

_(Heaven's star, shine through)_

Na'are utumno wanya

_(Flame of hell, vanish)_

~o~

Erüma, helkàda

_(Lonely voice, cold and bare)_

Raanè ressè

_(Wandering alone)_

~o~

Lörna à'kuilä

_(Asleep, yet awake)_

Vàrna mi'olör

_(Safe in dreams)_

~o~

Türma ei ràumo

_(Shelter from the storm)_

Sinomë

_(Here)_

* * *

The following days of travel passed swiftly by, the Imladris elves separating as their paths took them back toward their own realm. The nearer the remaining elves drew to Lothlórien, the more tense Haldir became, his disquiet affecting the entire company who grew increasingly restless.

Ahrhî walked across the grass to Haldir, where he had removed the last of his weapons and the few personal items he carried from the horse he had ridden. Lórien was less than two days walk ahead, and the loaned horses were being released to make their return back to the lands of Rohan. The Marchwarden patted the horse a final time in thanks, then moved back as it trotted away to follow the rest of the herd.

"Haldir," Ahrhî began, stepping closer to him. "What is it? Why have you grown so very silent and grim of late?"

He secured his quiver and bow to his back, around his armor, his gaze turning north. "Darkness lies in the path ahead of us, _Naurwen_. Can you not feel it?"

Closing her eyes after a moment, she concentrated on stretching her inner senses far and wide, gasping as her eyes flew open to meet Haldir's serious gaze. "What is that?" she asked fearfully. "I have never felt such a pressing menace before."

Laying a comforting hand on her shoulder, he looked around to see that most of the other elves were ready to march. "That is the enemy that seeks to destroy all who oppose him. I know not what waits to greet us in Lórien, but we must be prepared for any eventuality. Our fight is far from done."

As the march began, Ahrhî stayed near Rúmil and Haldir, having turned Breitha over to her fellow guards, Rínon and Tarar to ride, who both still suffered from leg wounds that made it more difficult for them to walk at the brisk pace Haldir insisted they all travel at.

As the day turned to dusk, they were set upon by a band of roving orcs and goblins, not dissimilar to the ones they had fought at Helm's Deep. Galadhrim arrows flew and the clash of steel rang out, but the creatures of darkness were no match for the skilled group of armored elves, and were soon vanquished.

They traveled on until they came to a place Haldir knew, a somewhat protected glade against a wall of rock, affording a decent stopping point to rest until first light. Most took the time to tend to their weapons and eat some of the lembas they still carried.

As Haldir was occupied with watch, Ahrhî found herself sitting with Rúmil, watching him nimbly sort and repair arrows. A few he had taken from their enemies; the same, short black style of arrow that had injured her in the great battle. She twirled one in her fingers, finding it fitting to use their own arrows against the vile beasts.

Rúmil set aside the arrows, finally finished with his fletchings and smiled when Ahrhî blew again at the hair that kept getting in her eyes and hooked the loose curls behind her ears.

"Shall I braid your hair for you, sister? I think you are entitled to wear warrior braids now, after your time as a border guard and the recent battles."

She tilted her head. "The same style as you and Haldir wear? Is that not reserved for males alone?"

"Nay," he said, with a slight shake of his head. "Gender has little to do with it. The right to wear such braids is merit-based alone."

She blushed and shot a look across the way to where Haldir stared out into the thick dark, keeping watch. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "But would it be fitting? Am I worthy of this distinction?" She didn't voice the question she really wished to ask, of whether or not Haldir would approve.

Rúmil leaned closer, catching her eyes with his. "I would not have suggested it if you were not worthy, Ahrhî. Now, come closer and turn your back to face me."

Suppressing a smile at his implied praise, she moved to obey, closing her eyes and relaxing at Rúmil's gentle touch while he finger combed the snarls and tangles from her hair, then separated it into three sections. There was a small pause and then he began to weave her hair into braids, his hands deft and sure in their work. Ahrhî grinned, though she kept her eyes closed.

"Where did Rúmil go, Haldir? I thought he was to do my braids."

"I am glad you are so readily able to discern my touch," he said, with a faint trace of humor in his tone. "Rúmil has gone to keep watch in my place, as he knew I would wish to do your braids myself. It did not occur to me, or I should have offered to see to your hair before now."

Within minutes, all three braids were completed, and Ahrhî turned to face him, curious to see his reaction. He turned her chin from one side to the other, then gave a nod of approval and a warm smile.

"Now, you look like a proper guardian of Lórien, _Naurwen_. Such braids well suit you."

Later, when the camp had fallen mostly silent and despite the pressing feeling of dark foreboding, Ahrhî managed to find her rest with a smile still on her lips.

* * *

**The song Haldir sings is called Lullaby From A Distant Land, by Forest Elves. It's kinda quasi-elvish, being a mix of Sindarin and Quenya, but still an awesome and lovely song. Go and listen to it on youtube!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of my birthday this Saturday, I decided to work on finishing this chapter as a gift to all you lovely readers who have embraced this story so whole-heartedly, and finally give you all what you have waited so patiently for: Ahrhi and Haldir's private wedding. So, here you go and I hope you like it. Haldir is very...Haldir in this chapter. Yeah, I'll let you discover what that means for yourself, but I did have a lot of fun writing it. Leave me a comment with any of your thoughts if you feel so inclined, and thanks for the previous comments, kudos and awesome feedback. ♥
> 
> I've also added a few more tags and bumped the rating up to an E.

* * *

 

 

Black smoke curled into the sky, partially obscuring the sun, and the smells of death and the decay of corpses and signs of battle greeted the returning elves long before they reached the edge of the Golden Woods. Charred mounds of enemy remains still smoldered, and piles of orc weapons sat in silent menace, no longer a threat, separated from the dark hands that had wielded them.

 

Orophin was waiting to welcome them as soon as they passed into the trees. Haldir sent all the other elves on ahead to Caras Galadhon, while he, Rúmil and Ahrhî lingered behind to be filled in by Orophin as to what had occurred during their absence. Haldir worked to complete the healing of an arm wound Orophin had received previously, while they talked.

 

“There have been two attacks by the forces of Dol Guldur and Mordor, the most recent having occurred yestereve. Thus far, we have repelled them with minimal difficulty, but the Lord and Lady warn we should look for further attacks to come.”

 

Haldir nodded at Orophin’s murmured thanks when he finished with the healing and looked to his other brother. “Rúmil, I must go and report to Lord Celeborn ere I return here, and I shall take Ahrhî with me to the city. Will you accompany us, or remain behind with Orophin?”

 

Rúmil shook his head and looked at Orophin. “I shall remain behind, Haldir. I have no cause to go into Caras Galadhon now when my bow may be of use here.”

 

Haldir went to speak very briefly with several other wardens standing nearby. In preparation for departure, Ahrhî hugged Rúmil quickly, then reached for Orophin, who not only hugged her, but also gave her a peck on the cheek and a kind smile.

 

“I am glad you are safely come back to us, Ahrhî. I have been concerned for you since the time of your injury in Mithlond.” He tilted his head and gave her a curious look. “What mishap occurred during the early part of your stay there that put you in such pain?”

 

She sucked in a breath and gave him a wide-eyed look. “How did you know I had injured myself not long after I arrived in Mithlond?”

 

Orophin shrugged. “Despite the distance, Haldir felt your distress and informed us of it. But will you not tell me what happened?”

 

Swallowing, she nodded, confused as to how Haldir would have been aware of the event, but sought to answer. “I went riding on my own in the countryside, but my horse threw a shoe, and I lost my seat when she stumbled and fell from the saddle. In my fall, I dislocated my shoulder as well as bruising my ribs and was forced to wait for my father and uncle to come looking for me, for I could not put it to rights without help, nor could I mount to ride in such a state.”

 

Haldir had returned in time to hear her explanation and Orophin winced in sympathy and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I assume after that event, you had someone always with you when you rode?”

 

Her brows lowered unhappily and she nodded. “Yes. There was a rather persistent Ranger named Elegost who appointed himself as my shadow following the incident, actually even before it. I could scarce escape him, although I did manage to successfully hide from him in the stables a few times.”

 

Haldir frowned. “A man pursued you during your stay in Mithlond? You made no mention of this before now.”

 

She laughed and shrugged. “Why should I speak of him? I certainly did not encourage his attentions, indeed, I did all I could to discourage him. I blame my father, who first suggested we practice sword fighting together, and then seemed to find Elegost’s interest in me strangely diverting.”Ahrhî reached out and squeezed Haldir’s arm with a teasing grin.

 

“Stop glowering, Marchwarden. You know I have only ever had eyes for you, and all your breathtaking sternness.”

 

Orophin and Rúmil managed to mostly stifle their laughter, but not their grins as they watched their eldest brother’s less than pleased expression as he stared down at the petite redhead and grunted.

 

“Did I not say you shall never again stir from my side? I see the wisdom of that even moreso now. Come, Ahrhî, let us make haste to Caras Galadhon.”

 

As Haldir took Ahrhi’s hand and departed down the path to the city, Orophin and Rúmil laughed quietly, Rúmil leaning closer to his elder brother so as not to be overheard. “I have never before seen Haldir display signs of jealousy. I did not know he had it in him.”

 

Orophin rubbed an absent hand across his recently healed arm. “Haldir is capable of many things, and his feelings for Ahrhî have brought out previously unknown aspects of his personality.” He chuckled. “Just wait until Ahrhî is with child… Haldir as worried husband and father is sure to be quite a diverting sight.”

 

Rúmil tilted his head and laughed, finding himself eagerly looking forward to the prospect.

 

* * *

 

 

When they reached the Celebrant crossing, Ahrhî made quick work of forming the usual ice bridge, and she and Haldir crossed together. They continued without delay or rest, and made their way into the city before dusk, turning immediately to ascend the great staircase. Lord Celeborn was readily visible, speaking to one of his personal guards, and many more guards than usual stood at various posts around the open space.

 

“Haldir,” Celeborn said with a welcoming smile, moving to greet them. “I am glad you have returned in so timely a manner. Galadriel saw of the victory over the enemy in her mirror, but are you well? No injuries that need attention, and what of any losses?”

 

Haldir shook his head. “We lost none from Lothlórien, my lord, but from the Imladris company, there were three as were lost from the blast when the wall was breached. Most of us who sustained injuries have healed, with the exception of Rínon and Tarar. Their wounds were beyond my skill to fully heal. Ahrhî gave them her mount to ride on ahead, so they should have long since made it to the healers for tending.”

 

Celeborn nodded and turned to the woman. “I am glad to see you are returned safely to us here, Ahrhî. You were also at the Hornburg during the battle, were you not?”

 

She smiled as Celeborn enfolded her a gentle hug. “Yes, my lord, I was. I had a dream of the great battle there, and my uncle agreed we should make haste to Rohan to lend aid. Lord Círdan sent a company of warriors with us. I think without so many elves present, the losses on the side of our allies should have been far greater, considering the vast host the enemy sent.”

 

Pursing his lips, Celeborn lifted his chin as he listened. “You are correct that the losses would have been heavy had we not acted. I communicated with Círdan to inform him of the situation. I am glad to know he also sent warriors. Your visit with your family went well?”

 

She nodded and glanced at Haldir. “I am happy I was able to spend time with my Mithlond kin, but I am very glad to return to Lórien once more, my lord, for my heart surely dwells here, even though war is now upon us.”

 

Crossing his arms, Celeborn looked back and forth between Haldir and Ahrhî, a small smile on his lips. “You are where you are meant to be at this time, Ahrhî, for you have a definite part to play here in the defense of these woods.” He turned to Haldir, growing sober once more.

 

“I know you wish to return to the fences, but the time for that will come soon enough. The enemy will not try us again so quickly after their last defeat. Take some time for yourself tonight, then report to me again in the morning, Haldir. Rest well.”

 

Haldir murmured an acknowledgement, and he and Ahrhî bowed before they took their leave. As they made their way back down the many stairs, Ahrhî glanced at him. “Where am I meant to stay, Haldir? At the same talan I occupied before, reserved for guests?”

 

He gave her a mysterious smile and took her hand in his. “Nay, I shall show you to where you are to stay.” He led her along a different stairwell onto a path high up into the trees to a secluded talan that overlooked a garden of flowering bushes, brimming with blue blossoms. He opened the door, then stepped back.

 

“After you, _Naurwen_.”

 

She grinned and stepped inside, far preferring the new location to the guest talan she had stayed in previously. This dwelling seemed much larger and finer, but she stared when she caught sight of a familiar cloak hanging on a hook near the door, as well as several other personal items scattered about. She turned to Haldir with wide eyes.

 

“Is this... _your_ talan?”

 

He smiled and closed the door behind him. “In truth, it is _our_ talan. I moved in here several weeks before the departure for the battle at Helm’s Deep. All your gowns and other things you left behind are here, as well.” He leaned down and kissed her gently. “Welcome home, beloved.”

 

Beaming with pleasure, she turned and wandered slowly through the rooms, her eyes quickly skittering away in embarrassment when she caught sight of the large, comfortable looking bed in the sleeping chamber, clearly intended for two people. Returning to the main room, she found Haldir had removed his weapons and was working on his armor and she walked over to him to assist in removing the rest, as she had become quite adept at doing for him during their travels.

 

“But I thought you shared a dwelling with your brothers?”

 

He set aside his breastplate and nodded. “I did, but Lord Celeborn suggested the move. Surely you realize when we are married we will want our privacy?”

 

She bit her lip while she unbuckled her sword and set it beside Haldir’s weapons. “Ah, I had not...really thought about such specific details before now, but I’m glad you have. I suppose it would have been a bit awkward living with your brothers after we wed.”

 

Haldir smiled and caressed her cheek. “Even though we are not yet done with peril and battle, I find I am greatly relieved just to have you returned to me once more. I have never before felt the passage of time, but I did most keenly during your absence.”

 

Moving into his embrace, she gave him a saucy smile. “Why, Marchwarden, you have the sound of an elf who is smitten. To hear you talk, one would think I had bespelled you.”

 

He shot her an amused look. “Have I not said before that you bewitched me, _Naurwen_?” Haldir traced one of her brows and kissed her, then pressed a soft kiss to each of her closed lids before she opened her eyes and looked at him again.

 

“Turn this green-eyed gaze of yours on me,” he murmured, “and watch me catch fire and burn for want of you. Your kiss is a more potent intoxicant for me than the very strongest wine.”

 

She swallowed, feeling the butterflies in her stomach take flight. “I know not what to say to you when you speak to me thus, though it gives me a thrill to know that I affect you in the same way as you do me.”

 

He smirked. “You do; never doubt it.” Giving her a final, chaste kiss, he stepped away. “Your spare clothing is in the bed chamber. I think we should go and bathe and meet here again. I shall bring food back when I return, as there is nothing in the talan.”

 

Ahrhî nodded and retrieved fresh things to change into before making her way to the nearby communal baths for females.

 

* * *

 

 

After they returned from bathing, feeling greatly refreshed and ate a meal together, the evening was spent tending to their weapons and equipment, as well as catching one another up on what had occurred during the time of their separation.

 

Haldir placed the last of their weapons on the low table and bench near the door and came and sat by Ahrhî, reaching for her bare feet and beginning to rub them as he knew she liked him to.

 

“Did being so near the sea not affect you at all, then?”

 

She shook her head. “Nay. Though I find it beautiful, and there is nothing more hypnotic than the pounding of the surf against the shore, I only wished to return here to be with you. Have you ever felt the sea longing, Haldir?”

 

“Never,” he said with a shake of his head, pushing a thumb into her arch and drawing a pleased sigh from her lips. “But I was born to these woods, and they have long sustained me. I have needed nothing more, and now with you and the love we share, life has grown ever sweeter.” His gaze grew troubled even as a pucker formed between his brows. “Alas, I do know our time in Middle-earth grows short. It is a sorrow to me to think of the day when we shall depart these lands, never to return.”

 

Thinking of Hathor, she bit her lip. “But that shall not be soon. I cannot conceive of leaving my father.”

 

Haldir drew a breath, letting the heavy thoughts ease away and smiled. “You will not have to leave him. I am certain it will still be many lifetimes of men we shall yet remain. When Lord Celeborn decides to sail, I expect most of us shall depart at that time. But think no more on it now.”

 

Ahrhî leapt up, grinning with a sudden thought. Haldir watched her curiously as she scrambled to her pack and rummaged in it before returning to sit beside him, something hidden in her hand.

 

“My Naneth-nana gave me these. She and my Naneth-ada used them, as did my parents when they wed. She thought we might want to use them as well, to continue the tradition.”

 

Opening her hand, she showed him the two gold rings shining brightly against her palm. He lifted them, examining them with a small smile.

 

“And so we shall, although there will be no others to observe, just we two. You do not mind this, I trust?”

 

She shrugged. “Of course not. I’m only pleased to have a little part of my family with me, and by extension, their blessings on our union.”

 

He glanced up, a seriousness in his sky blue gaze. “You will not miss us having foregone tradition with a public ceremony of betrothal rings, later to be exchanged for wedding rings and all the accompanying revels and merrymaking?”

 

“Haldir, this is me we’re talking about,” she said with a playful lift of her brows. “You know I dislike anything that makes me have to wait for what I desire. Do _you_ regret the loss of those things due to my impatience?”

 

His eyes softened with a slight smile lifting his lips. “Not in the least. My only concern is that you not harbor regrets or sorrow later, when you look back on this time.”

 

She laid her head against his chest, snuggling against him and stifling a yawn. “I shall have no regrets, only the happy memories of the earliest days of our love.”

 

Stroking his fingers slowly through her hair, Haldir leaned his head against the cushioned back of the bench, lost in thought and finding he completely agreed with her words. He smiled as he realized she had fallen asleep in his arms, lifting her and carrying her to their bed to rest more comfortably for the remainder of the night.

 

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî groaned in vague protest as something was persistently trying to pull her from her comfortable sleep, but she resisted valiantly, struggling to hold onto the sensuous dream of Haldir touching her so beguilingly…

 

Another warm kiss on her lips had her fully in the dream again until Haldir’s voice broke her from it, blending together in a confusing haze of dream with reality.

 

“Wake beloved. The sun is well up.”

 

Her eyes fluttered open to take in the sight of the bedchamber, _their_ bedchamber, lit by the light of a new day and Haldir leaning on the bed beside her, looking amused, and oddly expectant. She smiled and stretched.

 

“You just had to wake me now. I was having a very pleasant dream about you, too.”

 

Sitting up, he shot her a wry look. “Yes, I am aware. You speak in your sleep, you know, as well as making many _other_ kinds of noises. I thought I might rather wake you and turn those dreams of yours into reality.”

 

Ahrhî blushed and looked at him in confusion. “How can they be reality, unless…?”

 

Haldir gave her a very smug smile. “I have already been to report to Lord Celeborn this morning, and he has commanded us both to take three additional days to rest or do whatever we please, and he further informed me that the secluded talan a half an hour’s walk outside the city is available for our use.” He lifted his brows and gave her a significant, serious look, reaching for her hand to kiss it.

 

“What say you, _Naurwen_ , does this seem a good day to wed?”

 

Gasping, she also sat up, her eyes wide with shock. “But what about our duties? Will we not be missed at the...”

 

Stopping her questions with a soft kiss to her lips, Haldir shook his head a moment later. “I have already asked all these questions and more, and I have been instructed by both our Lord and Lady that we are to enjoy the immediacy of joy today, and not worry for the days ahead. Let us do as they advise, and not refute their greater wisdom in this.”

 

When his words had fully sunk in, Ahrhî pounced on him with an eager hug, squealing in excitement like a young girl, and making him laugh. She pulled back, biting her lip.

 

“Is there anything I must do to prepare? What shall I bring?”

 

He tapped her nose playfully with a finger, shaking his head. “You need only bring yourself, everything else we shall need is provided. Although, I do have a request to make of you, if I may?”

 

She grinned, unable to stop herself, and tilted her head. “What is your will?”

 

He stood and crossed to the clothing cupboard and pulled out one of the dresses gifted from her family that she had never had a chance to wear before she fled Lothlórien; white satin overlaid with intricate lace and chiffon, both simple and elegant, and held it out to her.

 

“Wear this for me, today.” He let it slide from his hand into her lap and smiled, turning to leave and allow her privacy to change. “So I may have the pleasure of taking it off of you later,” he murmured, before closing the door.

 

Blushing, Ahrhî buried her face in the soft fabric and giggled in embarrassed excitement, then bounced up from the bed to make ready.

 

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî followed Haldir through the woods, smiling at the bright shafts of sunlight filtering between the branches and leaves of the mellyrn trees, bathing the world around them in golden light. It was the most exquisite day she could have imagined for them to bond, as though Lórien itself approved of their joining, giving the gift of beauty and light.

 

She spun in a circle, making her gown flow outward, smiling in anticipation and delight. Haldir half turned to watch her with an answering smile, enjoying the sight she presented and the glow of her innocent, unaffected beauty.

 

Stopping, she stood very still, watching him watching her, teasing herself with the distance between them, but made no move to bridge it. Soon she would be completely his; such a thought was exhilarating and terrifying, and thrilling beyond all measure. Some wild part of her resisted the idea of being wholly tamed, just the smallest bit, prompting her to coyly prolong the wait what little she could.

 

Haldir tilted his head, trying to decipher the quick changing emotions in her eyes. Excitement seemed the most prominent, so he extended a hand to her so they could continue on their way. She bit her lip and took one step back, and then another, the beginnings of a teasing challenge forming in her eyes.

 

“Would you really make me chase you down when we might be far more agreeably engaged in...other activities?” He allowed a small portion of the desire he was holding tightly in check to show in his gaze, causing her eyes to widen and her mouth to fall open, which was exactly the reaction he had intended.

 

Instantly closing the gap between them, he took one of her hands in an ironclad hold, but did not otherwise touch her. “I believe I have already caught you more than enough times to claim you, Ahrhî, or do you contest my prowess as a hunter?”

 

She lifted a brow. “Are you not casting me in the role of prey if you subscribe yourself as hunter?”

 

His nostrils flared, even as he smiled slightly and the intensity of his gaze grew. “Not prey, beloved, but the treasured companion at the end of my very long wait for you. Come with me now, I would show you how greatly I value you in a far more tangible way.”

 

Ahrhî shivered at his words and tightened her fingers around his, once again more than ready to follow Haldir wherever he wished to lead her.

 

* * *

 

 

A talan situated low among the trees came into view after they had walked for another quarter of an hour. It was small and completely secluded, granting absolute privacy for the purpose of bonding or other occasional uses for the elves of Caras Galadhon. She examined it curiously, finding it not dissimilar to the telain in the city, save for the attached terrace at the front; much larger and more pleasant than the usual balcony.

 

When they reached the top of the small stairwell, Haldir released her and removed his boots and cloak, and she copied him. He approached a small table against the far side of the platform and retrieved a bottle of wine and a single silver goblet, setting it on the high, ornately carved table which stood in the center of the open space. A tangle of vines and flowers grew along the edge of the wooden platform, increasing the beauty of the place and making it feel even more a part of the gold-touched woods.

 

Haldir opened the bottle and poured until the goblet was half filled with wine and then set it between them, his eyes catching hers, reflecting the gravity and importance of the moment that had finally arrived. Ahrhî took a steadying breath as Haldir lifted it and spoke, his voice deep and earnest.

 

“Two souls, henceforth ever entwined as one, by Eru Iluvatar, to thee do I bond.” He drank, and then extended the goblet to her. More quietly, but no less sincerely, Ahrhî repeated his words and also drank. Each time, he led her in more words of promise, devotion and commitment, and she repeated them back, drinking to seal their troth.

 

Drawing forth the rings from an inner pocket where he carried them, Haldir placed the smaller of the two bands on Ahrhî’s index finger of her right hand, then she took the larger gold ring and slid it onto his corresponding finger.

 

Haldir finally set aside the goblet and began to sing to her in Quenya, a song of longing, love, and finally completion, drawing tears to her eyes from the beauty and emotion of it, and the parallel she could see in their lives. When his song ended, he leaned forward and kissed her softly, a misting of tears in his eyes as well.

 

Ahrhî smiled, so full of love for Haldir and such an overflowing happiness, she did not think it would be possible to contain it. She looked to him curiously, waiting to see what the next part of their bonding would entail.

 

He gestured behind him to the door of the talan, turning to open it for her to enter.

 

* * *

 

 

Haldir took Ahrhî's hand and led her into the room, closing the door behind them and turning to look at her. He smiled in tender amusement as her eyes flitted nervously around the room, suddenly looking anywhere but at him. It was pleasantly appointed in soft, muted colors that reflected nature, but the focal point was the over-sized bed in the center of the space, leaving no doubt as to what lay ahead.

 

With no further impediments before them, he pulled her into his arms, lowering his head to kiss her deeply, again and again until her lids were heavy, her green eyes reflecting back the desire that was riding him so strongly. He tugged on the ribbon lacing on the front of her satin gown, kissing her lingeringly as it gaped open, exposing pale skin and allowing him to caress her bare breasts, circling one of her nipples with his thumb, gently pinching the peak between thumb and index finger and drawing a throaty moan from her lips.

 

He pushed the loosened fabric down her arms until the gown slipped off to pool at her feet, leaving her bared to his appreciative gaze. He ran both hands down her back, grasping her low on her hips and pulling her firmly against his hardness, groaning with urgency when she licked at his ear and pulled impatiently at his tunic.

 

Releasing her briefly, he yanked the tunic over his head and dropped it to the floor to join her gown. She brushed the fabric of his leggings with a questioning glance and he quickly pushed them down and stepped out of them, joining her in her nakedness.

 

She darted a quick glance down at him and blushed. He smiled faintly, eyes full of heat, and buried his fingers in the red waves at the nape of her neck and tugged gently, baring her throat so he could lick and nibble a path down her neck, his other hand returning to squeeze at her full backside, unable to stop from grinding himself against her, both of them moaning at the electric feel of bare skin sliding together.

 

Picking her up, he carried her to the bed and lay her down, coming to rest next to her and pushing her to her back. With intense need driving him, he filled his hands with her full breasts, squeezing and reveling in the silken softness there while her hands mapped his shoulders and back. He bent to kiss her and lapped at a nipple, circling it with his tongue and suckling it slowly into his mouth, glancing up when she gave a long, breathy moan, and wanting to wring more from her.

 

Blazing a path across her chest, he moved down to the smooth skin of her belly and sucked greedily, kissing the small, strawberry colored mark he left behind as he had once before, his eyes flashing with possessive need and laving the curve of her hip. He stroked the tips of his fingers across one knee and parted her legs, trailing along the inside of her thigh and cupping the smooth softness of her sex, shuddering at the hot, slick welcome he found there.

 

His hands trembled with his desperate need to taste her, so long had he imagined it, the scent and feel of her a strong physical pull. Lowering his head, strands of his silver hair tickling across the skin of her belly and thighs, he ran his tongue between her folds and petals, like the most beautiful and mysterious flower, groaning when she wailed his name, raising her hips up to him like an offering.

 

He eagerly accepted it, fingers digging into her waist and thigh, his eyes watching her face hungrily while he circled his tongue around the small, glistening nub, moving to stroke a finger just inside her entrance, stretching her slightly and preparing her for him. Her hands scrabbled against the bedclothes, overwhelmed at his erotic assault and fisting her hands desperately against the sheets.

 

When he soon felt her start to tighten and tremble, he licked her faster, alternating between the very tip of his tongue and the flatter top and waited until she shattered for him, pushing two fingers deeper inside, surging past her barrier quickly so the pleasure she felt would be greater than any brief pain.

 

After her trembling quieted, he kissed his way back up to her lips, noting the dazed look of surprised delight on her face with a pleased swell of satisfaction. He took her hand and placed it on his aching erection, showing her how to touch him. Curiously, she gripped him and watched his face when she squeezed and stroked him, looking smug at the sounds she wrung from him.

 

He trailed his fingers against her wet folds again, making her shudder, her hips moving of their own accord.

 

“Haldir, so long have I ached for you… _p_ _lease_.”

 

He rose above her, supporting his weight on his bent arm. Looking down at her face and the picture she presented, flushed with passion and longing, he had to briefly close his eyes to regain some control and keep from taking her immediately like a wild beast. He drew a deep, calming breath.

 

“This is when we join, Ahrhî; the way our bond is truly formed. Are you prepared for me?” He pushed himself against her slick heat.

 

She eagerly opened her legs wider to accommodate him, rubbing her foot against the back of one of his legs and nodded. “I’m ready, Haldir.”

 

He rocked his hips against her, watching her face as he slowly entered her, sliding in a bare inch before he pulled back, then repeated the movement, going a little deeper each time to stretch her gently, shuddering at the feel of her around him.

 

Her eyes were wide by the time he was fully sheathed in her silken depths, nigh overcome by the feeling of completeness and fullness his thick length gave her. She moved her hips in enthusiastic and innocent delight, immediately seeking more sensation and making him suck in a breath sharply and place a restraining hand on her thigh.

 

“Wait, _Naurwen_ , a moment. I need you to try to feel me first.”

 

She giggled, her eyes sparkling merrily. “Haldir, how is it possible I not feel you? You are _in_ me, _around_ me; you dominate all my senses.”

 

He gave her a smugly amused grin and shook his head. “I mean to try to feel me here.” He lightly touched her chest above her breasts. “Like when you reach for your powers or speak to a tree. Extend your inner focus to me.”

 

Her eyes went hazy as she searched inward and outward. “But how shall I know...” She gasped when she felt... _something_...new, but also achingly familiar and dear.

 

 _Confidence._ _Tenderness._ _Heat. Power. Love._ _Desire._

 

All those feelings and more were flowing on an invisible river toward her; like a swift wind that you could never see, but felt the force of, she knew what it was now. She looked into his eyes in wonder. “Is that truly you? But how can it be?”

 

He shifted slightly, making her gasp. “It is my _fëa_ you feel; the very essence of my spirit. Once our bond is complete, you will always be able to feel my presence within you. In truth, I have been able to feel you since we shared our first kiss.”

 

She gave a surprised murmur at this revelation. He lowered his face and brushed his lips against hers, tugging her full bottom lip with his teeth. “I will love your body and spirit with mine now, Ahrhî. Come with me.”

 

Haldir began to move, keeping his eyes fastened on hers and seeking her pleasure, letting her expressions and movements instruct and guide him. He angled his hips differently and varied his thrusts until she moaned loudly and arched her back in eager approval. In such a way, he quickly discovered how she best liked him to stroke her inside, and single-mindedly repeated the way she responded to the most ardently.

 

When she began to actively meet his movements with her own, he increased his pace, rolling her on top of him; his hands gripping her hips, teaching her how to ride him and pleasure them both. Ahrhî did so with sultry abandon, bracing her hands on his firm chest and throwing her head back, causing him to lavish her breasts with hot, wet licks of his tongue and kisses of approval while he murmured words of encouragement and praise. When she panted softly and he felt her inner muscles start to tighten further around him, he rolled her beneath him again, gasping at the gripping heat and rising ecstasy of her intimate embrace.

 

“Give me every part of you, _Naurwen_ , open yourself to me fully,” he growled. “Not just your body alone, but your _fëa_ too; I must have all of you!” He scraped his teeth against her pale throat and sucked the soft skin, marking her again, nearly lost in the many facets of their shared passion.

 

She obeyed him, reaching out for the bond and him, needing his kiss to ground her. She felt like she was going to burst, inside and out. His body was driving her to some new height of expression, while his spirit surrounded her and showered her with love.

 

“Haldir...” She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin, overwhelmed by the feelings coursing through her, a slight hesitance making itself known at the frightening intensity and power of all that was happening.

 

He reached beneath her, gripping her backside in one hand, changing the angle of her hips again to stroke the place inside that made her clench and moan without fail.

 

“Trust me and let go, beloved. Fall into the pleasure with me, there is nothing to fear.”

 

He moved impossibly faster, his powerful body taking hers captive and insisting she submit to the bliss he offered. Throwing her head back in final surrender, she cried out, his voice soon blending with hers as their bodies and _fëa_ shuddered and rocked together in the perfect harmony of joining and release.

 

As such, they were irrevocably bonded together, two spirits as one, never to be separated again.

 

* * *

 

 

When the strongest of the sensations faded, Ahrhî gradually took note of other things. The feel of Haldir’s hand stroking her hair as she lay sprawled atop him. How his bare chest felt under her cheek, his heart beating strongly against her ear and the heat and scent of his skin. The wonder of feeling his spirit mingling with her own, and how their bodies remained joined, his length still surprisingly hard and deep inside her.

 

She lifted her head and smiled languidly up at him, her eyes shining with a new light and perfect contentment when she looked at him.

 

He examined her face with both wonder and love, and no small amount of renewed desire, the possessive part of him deeply satisfied by what he saw there.

 

“Ah, now that is an expression that shall only ever belong to me, and one I will want to see very often on your lovely face.”

 

Kissing his chest, she canted her hips and gave him a seductive smile. “Just how often is that, exactly?”

 

She shrieked with sudden laughter when his fingers danced teasingly along her ribs and he flipped her beneath him once more, angling himself deeper inside. When her laughter faded, he rubbed his nose and lips against her own until she sighed in pleasure, her blood once again surging hotly through her veins. He kissed her neck and whispered his question against her ear.

 

“Does my lovely lady wife desire more?”

 

She ran her hands down his back and wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his bottom and pushing him even closer against her, and nodded her head.

 

“Your wife has a desperate desire for more of you, Haldir. Always.”

 

He looked down at her with hooded eyes that promised many things, and made her shiver with anticipation, before he eagerly obeyed.

 

* * *

 

 

Ahrhî dropped her gaze, immediately shying away from what Haldir was telling her to do. She would happily look at him and all the sensual expressions he wore all day as they shared pleasure, but being forced to look at a reflection of herself and observe her own expressions and reactions was more than she felt equal to.

 

It was his suggestion, or really more demand, for her to kneel in front of the mirror while he knelt behind her and touched her, all of her open and on display while he was partially concealed behind her, his hands moving across her body and stroking her confidently. He hadn’t even allowed her to keep her thighs modestly together, but insisted she open them wide. It was too much.

 

“I….I _cannot_.”

 

He reached around and cupped her chin, lifting it. “You can. Look at me.” When she tried to turn her head to see him behind her, he tightened his grip, preventing it. “Nay, in the mirror. I want you to behold me even as I watch you.”

 

She lifted her eyes reluctantly and was immediately trapped by the masculine power and unabashed desire he was showing her with the full force of his regard.

 

“Yes, like that,” he murmured. “You crave what you see when I look at you this way, Ahrhî. I feel it in you.”

 

She swallowed and nodded. His large hand holding her chin in place while he urged her to do his bidding sent a bolt of heat directly to her core, making her shift her hips unconsciously, and he well knew how he affected her.

 

Haldir smiled. “Do not drop your gaze again.”

 

Slowly, he released her chin and moved his hand down to caress one of her breasts, rolling the nipple between his fingers, sending shocks of tingling awareness through her, the slight sting recalling how strongly and recently he had suckled there. Though she kept her eyes on his, she could not escape the peripheral view of what he was doing to her, as he obviously knew when he trailed his hand across her navel and down between her legs.

 

His other hand now played at her breasts while he dipped his fingers into the wetness at her core, then provokingly, fleetingly, brushed his thumb against the small, hidden place that could make her nigh weep with the ecstasy he had taught her to hunger for.

 

She gasped and clutched at the arm that teased her breasts and nipples, finding herself fully watching his hand touching her sex, unable to look away. With firm pressure, he pushed her thighs further apart, baring more of her to their combined regard.

 

He lowered his head to brush his lips against the side of her neck, but his eyes remained locked to hers, his stare at once, both demanding and gentle. Sliding two fingers into her, he rubbed his thumb firmly against her nub, drawing a helpless moan from her. His voice vibrated into her body from his chest pressed solidly against her back.

 

“I commanded you to watch, not to be cruel, but so you will see the beauty of our passion together. Shame and embarrassment have no place nor sway in what we do in private, nor the world outside. There is only us.”

 

In a daze of want, both from his touch and his words, Ahrhî whispered his name like a plea but offered no resistance when he briefly removed his hand and lifted her slightly, angling her hips so he could enter her from behind, his hand returning again to brush against her wet folds, drawing another moan from her. His hard length disappeared inside of her, then reappeared as he began a slow rhythm, the reflected sight of their lovemaking unbearably erotic.

 

Mesmerized, she watched them move as one, lazily chasing the sensations that would lead to completion, but in no hurry to end their joining. She reached back to pull Haldir’s head down to her, their lips and tongues adding to the continued sensual attack on their senses.

 

When she looked back to their reflection, she belatedly realized they were acting out one of the sketches she had scrutinized in the book from Lord Celeborn’s study. One of the ones she hadn’t quite been able to make sense of on her own...

 

_Oh._

 

Haldir continued to dominate her gaze with his, the very last of her discomfort and embarrassment melting away in a cloud of increasing heat and pleasure. He sucked the muscle on the side of her neck then kissed the mark there soothingly, his thrusts still smooth and controlled.

 

“I will keep this image of you always, _Naurwen_ , to warm me when we are apart.”

 

Admiring his powerful thighs and the play of the muscles in his arms as he moved and held her close, she closed her eyes, riding the waves of sensation and getting ever nearer to her crisis.

 

“Nay, Ahrhî, not until I say.” He withdrew his hand, cutting off the necessary stimulation, and she dug her nails into his muscled shoulder in protest.

 

He laughed, the sound smoky and deeply amused. In a sudden fit of pique and boldness, she moved her own hand down to touch herself, feeling smug at his briefly surprised expression in the mirror.

 

But he quickly caught her hand in his, lifting it up to his mouth and sucking the wetness, swirling his tongue around her fingertips while he held her gaze, causing her to swallow at his expression, something darker and more dangerous than he had ever shown her before. Twice he brought her to the very brink, but prevented her from reaching her goal, seemingly trying to drive her completely out of her mind with need.

 

“Haldir,” she finally wailed in frustration. “ _Please_...”

 

He gauged the desperation in her expression and then kissed her tenderly just below her ear, relenting.

 

“Yes. Now...with me.”

 

Reaching down, he deftly stroked her while he thrust strongly inside of her, gliding over both of her points of strongest pleasure, sending her instantly into the most powerful climax she had yet experienced. When she threw her head back, clenching and shuddering around him, he filled her with his own release and time seemed to slow as they crested explosively in unison.

 

Slumping over onto hands and knees, Ahrhî panted heavily and arched her back like a cat, stretching out the kinks while Haldir withdrew, making her shiver at the sudden loss of his heat against her.

 

* * *

 

 

After bathing leisurely in the small, warm spring just a short distance behind the talan, Ahrhî again lay curled next to Haldir on the oversized bed; her head pillowed on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around her, his hand resting loosely on the curve of her hip. She drew lazy patterns across his muscled chest with her fingers, smiling at some of the marks of passion she had left on his golden skin with her teeth and nails.

 

“I think I like being married to you, Haldir.”

 

He raised a questioning brow. “You _think_?” His hand moved to squeeze her generous backside, giving her an assessing look. “I should hope you would know. Or, is this some challenge you are issuing, that I should seek to fully sway you into ardently confessing that you do, in fact, both adore your husband, and being married?”

 

She caught her tongue between her teeth, wondering just how far she might push him. “Oh, do you think you may be capable of persuading me to admit that aloud, Marchwarden?”

 

One side of his mouth tugged into a semblance of a smile, while his eyes fairly crackled with intensity. “I can persuade you to any number of things, Ahrhî, and well you know it. It thrills you to push me to act, for you relish when I bend you to my will, as I always knew you would.”

 

Ahrhî scoffed, pretending to be unaffected by his words while she tried to quell the now familiar flutter low in her belly. “You are a far more... _domineering_ mate than I thought you would be.”

 

He shrugged. “I have never hidden who I am from you, and I can feel how much you enjoy our love-play. You like the excitement you experience when I wrest all control away when I pleasure you, for you know you can trust me to care for your needs, and I enjoy satisfying you in that way.”

 

She blinked and looked up at him. “Are you saying your dictatorial manners are all for me?”

 

He chuckled and lifted her fingertips to his lips for a kiss. “I’m saying it is for our mutual benefit and enjoyment, _Naurwen amin_. _(my fire maiden)_ That is the very nature of marriage, as there is no longer just me or just you, but now there is us. We are one in our love, in pleasure, in all things.”

 

Smiling mischievously, she kissed his chest and swiped her tongue across his nipple, having already discovered that he was nearly as sensitive there as she was, smiling when his hand tightened across her backside in reaction.

 

“I do love you, Haldir,” she sighed, “and I adore being married to you, _and_ I like all the things you do to me.”

 

He nodded, satisfaction in his smile. “I was never in any doubt, beloved, although it is always good to hear.”

 

She sat up after a moment, half turning to face him. “I think I will be a little sorry to go back to the city and resume our duties. I could happily stay here with only you for a very long time.” She exhaled slowly, her brows crinkling with worry, a haunted look in her eyes making Haldir sit up and rest a hand against her cheek in concern.

 

“What is it? Why do I feel such trepidation from you?” he asked, searching her eyes.

 

Placing a hand on top of the one against her cheek, she shrugged. “You know that...that pressing feeling of foreboding we sensed as we drew nearer to Lórien?” At his nod, she continued, briefly gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

 

“The other night I think I had a dream of something... _important_ that is soon to happen, but when I awoke I could not recall any part of the dream, no matter how hard I try, only the sense of urgency, and I still cannot. It frightens me, for what if something terrible happens that I was meant to prevent, if I could only remember?”

 

Haldir’s mouth tightened as he pulled her into his arms, stroking her back soothingly. “Shhh, do not allow fear to overrule your reason. No matter what comes in the days ahead, we shall face it together, _Naurwen_. Do not let some vague sense of disquiet taint all your current joy.”

 

She pulled back to meet his eyes, tracing the strong line of his jaw with her finger and nodded, releasing a breath. “You are right. I do feel somewhat better just having spoken of it to you.”

 

His eyes were full of the concern and protectiveness that she always found so endearing. “You must always tell me of anything that troubles you. A burden shared lessens the weight, and nameless fears in the dark soon dissipate in the cleansing light of day.”

 

Her gaze memorized his features while she let his words and presence comfort the worry still niggling inside of her, finally shoving the last of her fears away to think on later.

 

“How did I catch such a wise husband?” she asked with a playful smile, combing her fingers through his silvery hair where it spilled over his shoulder. His expression lost its gravity and slowly turned teasing, mirroring hers.

 

“I believe I am the one who caught you, and thereby irrevocably ensnared myself in your charms for all eternity, _vanessënya.” (Quenya: my beauty)_

 

Ahrhî pushed him to his back and straddled him, resting both of her palms flat against his chest and smirking. “Then while you are yet ensnared in my charms, I think I shall be in charge now and do with you whatever I please, bending you firmly to _my_ will.” She tilted her head. “You have no objections to this, I trust?”

 

His blue eyes smoldered up at her, looking very much like a patient predator waiting for just the right moment to pounce on his prey.

 

“By all means, proceed,” he murmured. Strong, calloused hands slowly ghosted up her thighs, his eyes darkening further. “I’m sure I will very much enjoy watching you try.”

 

* * *

~o~


End file.
